


Guilty Blood

by nataehyung



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate universe - Mafia, Angst, Betrayal, Blood and Gore, Crime Fighting, Crimes & Criminals, Drug Addiction, Explicit Language, Extortion, Gambling, Gun Violence, Illegal Activities, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Money laundering, Murder, Mystery, Poker, Psychological Trauma, Smut, Thriller, Torture, Weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-30 15:28:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14500029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nataehyung/pseuds/nataehyung
Summary: The sticky, humid air was unbearably warm in the casino as loud music pumped throughout the building. Echoing with laughter, strangers gambling and drinking, new recruit Lee Hoseok knew that it was supposed to be a good night. He hadn't intended on quite literally colliding with one of the most dangerous men in the X Clan and wrecking his expensive suit. The tall and beautiful male didn't take apologises lightly and announced in order to gain his forgiveness, he had to beat him in a game; a simple card game. The stakes were his life. This was a game that Hoseok couldn't afford to lose. If he wants to continue breathing, he needed to be extremely careful; he needed to be cautious of his every move. Unfortunately once someone has sparked the interest of Chae Hyungwon, the heir to the mob empire, they rarely come back alive.





	1. The Star Casino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Lee Hoseok, you needn’t worry about placing forward chips.” Hoseok knitted his eyebrows together and peered up at the male who was busy shuffling.
> 
> “Pardon, sir, I don’t understand,” he pronounced. A laugh touched Hyungwon’s lips and slowly he glanced up at Hoseok, a dark glint of amusement evident in his eyes.
> 
> “I told you would, you would give you the chance to rectify your mistake,” Hyungwon said, “You’re betting something that’s not a material object. If you lose against me, you lose your life.” Hoseok could feel the eyes falling onto him as people watched him. His blood ran cold and he dropped his eyes to the cards in Hyungwon’s hands and studied how he brushed his fingers against the edge of the cards. There was a ghostly smile framing his lips, but as quickly as it had appeared the mischievous grin vanished and was replaced by a straight face.

Noise was something that Hyungwon found particularly irritating. The echo of haughty laughter and inconsistent yelling echoing throughout a room brought on the painful sensation forming at the forefront of his head.  Combined with the spicy earthen scent of tobacco and bitter alcohol, the very aroma in the humid room was enough to make a newcomer feel queasy. The blaring of unidentified music was all but drowned out by the chatter, the words becoming non-existent and the conversations like a buzzing creature clicking by the side of one’s head. It was warm in the room, despite the large doors facing the sea side being pried open.  
  
The first floor of the casino was packed with bodies of figures seeking an enjoyable time in winning a couple hundred or potentially loosing a large sum. There were men and women dressed in fine clothing, hair neatly pulled back from their face which was all but a haze through the smoke that rose in the air; curling and twisting up to the roof. There was a large staircase at the back, opposite the doors at the other end of the building that led up to the V.I.P area. Nearly the entire second floor was designated for these types of people. A brass banister circled the walls of the structure, permitting the figures residing in the lavish area to look down on the common folk. There were doors, which led to private rooms, refusing the entry of anyone who wasn’t invited. That was if they could get passed the two guards stationed at the base of the stairwell.  
  
For a place that wasn’t exactly high class, at least in Hyungwon’s perspective, it was alright. The young heir didn’t normally interlink his business life in a public area such as this. He had been in casinos before, of course. But none as exposed to the public as this. The types of places he was used to were littered with criminals. They were the types of places where people knew who he was and were wary of him. Here, most who walked passed him didn’t pay him any attention. Why was he at a place like this then? Observing.  
  
With one hand placed against the cool brass, his dark eyes peered over the edge of the railing. In his other hand was a short glass sparkling with amber liquid. His hand lolled on his wrist, causing the bubbling liquid to rotate in the clear glass it was contained in. The drink itself wasn’t pleasant, but what could be expected of a mediocre establishment. Brushing his fingertips against the railing, Hyungwon had his suspicion that the banister was simply plated, reducing its quality drastically. Everything about this place was cheap. That much was obvious from the moment Hyungwon had arrived; the casino reeked of it.  
  
He saw the appeal though. To the mundane eye, the establishment was glorified and surprisingly affordable. There was also a high chance of leaving with more than what one first arrived with. Then there was the location. Right by the seaside. Individuals would be able to retire by the ocean during the day, retreat to the casino of a night and finally, rest in one of the many hotels situated nearby. It was simply business. The owner obviously knew what he was doing. That was more than what Hyungwon could say about several of the men working beneath his father. Under his breath, he grumbled something inaudible as he raised his drink to his lips.  
  
The acidity of the champagne was too strong. That was the first thing that Hyungwon had noticed. It hadn’t been balanced correctly with the sweetness of the alcohol. It was sharp and bitter, stinging the inside of his mouth. The fluid didn’t remain in his mouth long before he swallowed, allowing the searing sensation to pass down his throat. He sucked in a breath and outstretched his arm, leaving it suspended in the air until his companion took hold of the glass. He could still feel the aftertaste of the drink on his tongue, leaving a reminder of the contents.  
  
“Master Chae, is it not to your liking?” the voice of his companion uttered, their head bent low and shoulders slumped forward. His thick fingers were curled around the edge of the glass, cupping it gently in his hand. The suit was completely black, including the tie that was dangling from his neck. Accompanied with his dark hair, it caused his golden skin to dull in comparison. He was notably paling due to the extended pause that Hyungwon left.  
  
The silence, ironically, was deafening. It left a buzz in the man’s ears and caused his heart to thump rapidly in his chest, pounding sharply against his ribs. The thudding reverberated throughout his entire body, making him woozy on his feet. His thick dark hair clung to his forehead, glued back sweat that was breaking onto his skin. He managed not to move, instead keeping his feet firmly in place and his hands steady so that he didn’t slosh the champagne in case Hyungwon requested it to be returned.  
  
“Drink. Tell me what you taste,” Hyungwon ordered, his voice smooth, eerily calm. He didn’t even need to look over his shoulder to know that the man was doing as he was instructed. The young male placed his second hand against the railing and leaned forward gently, his obsidian orbs scanning the crowd below. He scoffed quietly to himself. Stupid drunk people, he thought to himself, so oblivious to the dangers that surrounded them.  
  
“Sir…” the man behind him trailed off.  
  
“It’s unpleasant, is it not?” Hyungwon spoke. There was no anger in his voice. However, there never usually was. That was what made it so difficult to determine what his emotions were; what he was thinking. He could be seemingly calm, his voice barely rising above an octave, and then in an instant, he would have an insubordinate quite literally strung up and tortured until the point they were begging for a merciful death. Only when Hyungwon grew board would he grant their request; he didn’t take orders.  
  
“Yes, Master Chae,” the male agreed, bowing his head further forward. “If it would please you, I can retrieve something that would best suit your tastes.”  
  
“There is no need,” Hyungwon brushed off, “Alcohol clouds the mind of even the most decent of men. And I need a clear head tonight.”  
  
“If I may,” the man started, careful of his words and pace. “Why are we here?”  
  
“You’re questioning me,” Hyungwon said. It wasn’t a question, but rather a statement; a warning. Slowly Hyungwon turned on the ball of his foot, his black shoes silent against the marble ground, drowned out completely by the noise. His hand snapped forward, gripping the man’s chin, his fingers digging into his skin. The man in his grip didn’t look up to meet his gaze, instead opting to settle on staring at the top button of Chae Hyungwon’s silken black shirt. The young boy’s silver cufflinks situated on the sleeves of his tailcoat winked in the warm lighting.  
  
“No, no, I was merely,” the man stuttered, his lips pressed together in an unattractive pout. Even beneath his fingers, Hyungwon could feel that the man was quivering in fear.  
  
“Good,” the young male simply stated. He didn’t continue further as his message had been received loud and clear. No one questioned the actions of Chae Hyungwon. Not unless they had a death wish. Harshly he released the man’s jaw, his hand still hovering in the air. He dropped his shoulders forward with a soft breath then wet his lower lip. “I’m bored,” he declared. “Inform the others to set up for a game. I will join them soon. I need to step out to make a phone call.”  
  
Without so much of another word, Hyungwon reached his hands forward, tugging on the collar of his tailcoat straightening it up, then slid his hands down the front to further make sure that the buttons were fastened securely. He could contact his father in the private room that he and a selected few members of the X Clan were in, but he didn’t want to be overheard by any of those rats. In the X Clan, it was common knowledge that you couldn’t be too careful where you placed your trust. Hyungwon himself didn’t trust anyone, not even his father. If given the chance and reason, he was sure that his own father would put a bullet between his eyes.  
  
Love was something that didn’t exist in the X Clan. Those who fell victim to it normally paid for it later. It was better not to care for anyone. Everyone knew that. Hyungwon knew that. Many of his father’s informants knew that. Even those who Hyungwon considered close to him knew that if he had to, Hyungwon would brutally end their life himself. It didn’t matter who they were. He had to do what was necessary for the congregation. Just because someone had the mob heir’s favour one day, didn’t mean they would the next day. Hyungwon thought it was best to just assume that everyone wanted him dead, that way he didn’t hesitate if he was forced to take their life. He had been faced with that challenge once.  
  
There had been a boy his age that he considered a friend. The boy had no ties to the mafia, yet his father had instructed him to kill him. He had told him to cut off all ties that he had that suggested that he had a normal life. At that point Hyungwon had experienced a duality within himself but knew that his loyalty to the X Clan was being tested. His father wanted to see if he had what it took. And so, at sixteen he committed his first murder. He liked to think that it was quick and painless, at least that’s what he had told himself. But that was far from the truth. That was just something he told himself at the time to ease the guilt. He knew that the boy didn’t deserve to die; he had done nothing wrong. But his father had been right. He couldn’t allow anyone to get too close to himself, nor could he allow himself to believe that he was normal. Chae Hyungwon was far from normal.  
  
He was outside before long; the salty air stinging his face and pinch his cheeks. He stood motionless as the light wind, brushing his thick, brown hair across his forehead. The sky was an inky blackness above his hair, the moon bright and the stars gleaming in the distance. He could make out the shape of the waves crashing against the shore, abusing the endless grains of sand that stretched further than what Hyungwon could make out.  
  
Sliding his hand into the inside pocket of his coat, he retrieved the sleek black phone that had been tucked out of sight. He barely needed to look down at the screen to put in the passcode before he was staring at the screen, a standard predownloaded background reflecting back at him. His finger danced across the screen, pushing in the numbers that belonged to his father’s private phone; the digits permanently engraved into his mind. Hitting the glowing call icon, he lifted the device to his ear and listened to the dial tone. It barely rang before the familiar rough voice of his father came through the receiver.  
  
“ _Is it done?_ ” his father enquired.  
  
“Kang hasn’t made an appearance,” Hyungwon answered.  
  
“ _The fucker probably has made a run for it,_ ” his father spat distastefully.  
  
“He’ll show up. If not, then I suppose I’ll just have to get my hands dirty, but I’ll find him before sunup,” the young male informed. “I’ll make sure that traitor wishes he was never born. Anyone who gets in my way, I won’t be merciful to either.”  
  
“ _You know what to do, just make sure to dispose of him effectively and as soon as possible. I don’t want to see his ugly face resurface again,_ ” his father’s voice was a low, menacing growl. “ _Have you been keeping an eye on the new recruits? I can only assume with your curiosity and resources you know that some of them are at The Star._ ” Hyungwon prided himself on being well informed. He didn’t like to walk into something blindly and preferred to uncover as much information that he needed.  
  
“I’ve seen some; younger than I thought,” Hyungwon commented.  
  
“ _They may be young, but they all show promise,_ ” came the response. There was the scrunch of leather which informed Hyungwon that his father was either leaning back into his seat or rising to his feet. “ _Find Kang and make an example of him. I want all of the X Clan to know what happens to traitors._ ” There was a click and suddenly the line went dead.  
  
Inside the warm, sticky casino, Hoseok, sat at a crowded booth by the wall. He could hear the clicking of a roulette wheel and the clinking of chips and dice hitting boards. There were flashes of cards from the corner of his eyes as people huddled around tables, playing various games and betting money. People were yelling at one another and others were laughing joyfully. His gaze flickered across the people, eying their expensive suits. In comparison, his was a simple black and white three-piece suit. He wasn’t even wearing a tie. The cream coloured shirt was slightly crinkled and missing the top button so that his collarbones were visible.  
  
At the table he was seated at, he was surrounded by men varying from ages. There were a three perhaps around his age, maybe even younger. One looked like he could still pass for a high school student. The other two were evidently older than them. One had a grown a moustache and had propped a thick cigar between his cracked lips. The very scent tickled the inside of Hoseok’s nose. The other was a skinny man with a near grey complexion. His fingers were chipped and his eyes were dark. He couldn’t be older than forty, but he most certainly didn’t look his age.  
  
“Lee,” the man with the moustache called. Hoseok recalled that he had introduced himself as Ahn Daesuk. He was a hostile man Hoseok came to know and always had a sinister smile framing the corners of his lips. It made the male’s stomach churn uncomfortably every time he had to look up at him. “You haven’t said much. Not boring you, are we?” The men at the table hooted with laughter.  
  
“What? No, of course not,” Hoseok shook his head in disagreement, “I’m just…” he trailed off. What was he doing? He didn’t like the company of these men, yet it wasn’t as though he had any other choice but to be around them at this current point. He was beginning to question whether or not he really should’ve gone out.  
  
“I’m just fucking with you Lee,” Ahn stated, “Just because we’re all in the X Clan, doesn’t mean we have to act like a whore deprived of sex.” The skinny man nudged him in the side, digging his bony elbow into his rib with an icy glare masking his expression. Through his yellow teeth he hissed out his words like a venomous snake.  
  
“Keep your voice down you idiot,” he spat.  
  
“It’s not like these morons know what it is,” Ahn snapped, jerking his head towards the crowd of people that weren’t paying attention. He drew the cigar from his lips, puffing out a cloud of smoke. He let out a sigh and rested his back against the seat comfortably. In the short time that Hoseok knew him, he had already made up his mind; he didn’t like him. Hoseok liked to think he was a good judge of character and in this line of work, if one could even call it that, it was crucial that one would be able to quickly judge someone efficaciously.  
  
“What do you do?” the skinny man directed towards Hoseok. His tone was bitter, leaving the aftertaste of a sour lemon. Hoseok had to refrain from grimacing at the very sound of his sickening voice. “You look like the type to be a soldier. You a hitman Lee?”  
  
“No,” Hoseok answered almost instantly. “I specialise with networking. Knowing who people are, tracking transactions and maintaining databases.”  
  
“Never would’ve guess,” Ahn responded, “What a waste of muscle.” He set the cigar back between his lips to further stain his teeth. “So basically, you’re a little lapdog for whoever wants you? In that case, why don’t you get the next round of drinks. Be a good little bitch.” The man’s attitude was condescending, like he already thought he was in a position of superiority.  
  
Hoseok could feel the eyes of all the men present, watching him carefully to see what he would do. Ahn in particular had his eyes permanently glued to the muscular male as he lethargically took a drag from the cigar. His eyes gleamed with mischief and the corner of his right lip had been pinned up. There was something about his eyes that made Hoseok uncomfortable. Perhaps it was the way that Ahn allowed his attention to rake over Hoseok’s figure as though he was surveying his prey.  
  
The young male didn’t argue as he stood up, eager to get away from his companions, even if it was only for a few minutes. It was better than sitting around the table listening to them and inhale the toxic scent of Ahn’s cigar. Hoseok wasn’t one to engage in smoking, drinking or taking recreational drugs. He was well aware of the influences of such things and preferred to steer clear of any of them. It was dangerous. Anything could happen if one wasn’t careful. He could say the wrong thing or completely lose control. He could say or do something that could get him killed.  
  
Hesitantly he stepped away from the table and in the direction of the bar long bar located by the entrances. He assumed it was so that people would be more inclined to purchase a drink as they went inside. There was however a long table that stretched in the centre of the casino that most people went to. The bar by the door was slightly further but there wasn’t that much of a line. If his table companions enquired why he had gone there, he would use that excuse. In reality, it was to get as far from them as possible.  
  
The bar wasn’t that crowded when Hoseok strolled up to it to place the order. He placed his elbows against the counter, watching as the bartender turned away in order to prepare the drinks. Hoseok hung his head forward, his near black hair softly hanging in his face. He worked on filtering out the sound of voices around him; he had little interest in gambling. It would begin as an innocent and fun game but could quickly take a dark turn. It had the potential of becoming quite dangerous, particularly if you were playing with the wrong kind of people. Judging from some of the faces within the Casino, there were a number of people that were just like that; that one didn’t want to upset.  
  
“Do you need any help with those?” the bartender suddenly spoke.  
  
“No, I will be fine,” Hoseok answered, propping two drinks between his elbows, one each in his hands and lastly pinned the fifth one between the two in his hands against his chest. He hadn’t bothered with requesting one for himself. He wasn’t about to get himself drunk on cheap alcohol. Cautiously he took a step back, his eyes shifting between each of the five glass he held firmly in his arms. Darting his gaze back towards the table for a split second, he began making his way back to the collect of men he was keeping company.  
  
Hoseok’s attention was predominantly on the drinks in which he was carrying, not wanting to spill anything. He carefully weaved his way through people, someone bumping into his shoulder. He spun out, causing his other shoulder to collide with someone’s back. His hands snapped forward, releasing the three of the glasses in which he had been carrying back to the table, which was only a few metres away by this point. In an attempt to stabilise himself, he took hold of the body he had bumped into, pulling the lean figure down to the ground with him. The two landed on the floor with a thud, glass and liquid sloshing across the marble floor.  
  
The male could feel the contents soaking into his jacket, his arm draped across the stranger’s waist, above the buckle of his belt. The cloth beneath his hands was damp, indicating that not only had he spilt the drinks on the floor and on himself but also the figure he had dragged to the ground. Pushing himself up to his knees, he came to see that one of the glasses in his hand was half broken, whereas the other had vanished. His hands were sticky and his nostrils were filled with the scent of the alcohol.  
  
“I’m very sorry sir,” Hoseok uttered politely, lifting his eyes to meet the man’s gaze as he stood. Upon looking upon him he noticed that he was young. Much younger than he had anticipated. He met the almond shaped eyes that appeared nearly black. His thick hair was styled back from his face in a side part, only a few strands brushing against his forehead. His golden skin was healthy and smooth. His long, soft nose was set in the middle of his face, his full lips resting just beneath it. Hoseok felt a shiver passed down his spine, rolling across his body as he watched the male’s tongue wet his lower lush lip. “Master Chae,” he whispered.  
  
“You’re a new recruit,” Chae Hyungwon breathed out. His eyes weren’t resting on Hoseok though, but rather the wet patches of alcohol that had stained his black smoking, jacquard tailcoat. The coat itself was perhaps worth a couple thousand. Even the slim black silk tie wouldn’t have been cheap. The heir’s attire was probably worth more than what Hoseok could make in a year. The suit was appeared as though it were made specifically for him. It folded around his body in the right places, dipping across his figure with careful precision. A Bespoke suit perhaps, Hoseok though as he shakily pushed himself up to his feet, standing shorter than the slender male.  
  
From his facial expression, he couldn’t determine whether he was angry. His eyes, which were allegedly the windows into a person’s soul, were devoid of any emotion. The calamity of this person before him was more frightening than someone with an explosive temper. Hoseok couldn’t determine what would happen, how this young man would react. He couldn’t bring himself to move away. It was as though ice had frozen him to the ground and was beginning to settle on his body. He could practically feel each fibre of ice creep up his body towards his stomach which was twisting into tight knots of nervousness. His heart jack rabbited within his chest, his pulse rising rapidly against his throat.  
  
“Yes, Master Chae,” Hoseok managed to wheeze out, “I would like to offer you my deepest regret and apologise.”  
  
“I don’t believe in forgiveness. If I forgave every person who fucked me over, well, I’d probably be dead. You on the other hand, you’re a recruit, I should’ve been informed that the X Clan doesn’t give out second chances,” Hyungwon tutted and shook his head, “You’ve disrespected me.”   
  
“I –” Hoseok started but Hyungwon quickly held up his hand as to silence him. Hoseok firmly shut his mouth, pressing his lips together and stared down at his shoes. The echo of Hyungwon’s shoes padding the floor pounded in Hoseok’s ears, despite the volume of noise in the room. It was like his senses had completely shut out his surroundings. All he could think of was the man purposely approaching him slowly. The hairs on the back of his neck rose when his skin came into contact with Hyungwon’s warm breath.  
  
A cool, curled finger was placed beneath his chin, tilting his head back so that he was looking directly up into Hyungwon’s dark eyes. He breathed in slowly, as to hide the fact that this man before him made him feel ill. It wasn’t just from fear, but he knew the crimes that Chae Hyungwon had committed. He had heard of the people Hyungwon had mutilated until they were beyond recognition. Even as a trainee, they had witnessed one of the corpses that had been tortured by Hyungwon. He hadn’t seen the man in person though.  
  
The hand that was now beneath his chin was the same one that Chae Hyungwon had used to murder people. That he had used to inflict searing pain upon masses of people. And now, Hoseok was caught under it, like a fly caught within a spider’s web. Hyungwon was that spider; a predator that had caught its prey and was waiting to devourer it. Hoseok didn’t like to think of himself as the prey, but that was essentially what he was.  
  
“However,” Hyungwon spoke up, “I will give you the chance to rectify your mistake.” Hyungwon slapped his hand down against Hoseok’s shoulder, curled his fingers, then began to lead him towards the stairwell.  
  
“But the mess,” Hoseok began.  
  
“Someone will clean it up,” Hyungwon responded flatly. “You shouldn’t worry about things like that, you should just worry about yourself.” That statement did little to settle Hoseok’s rising anxiety. His throat was dry as he swallowed down a hard lump which had situated itself at the top of his throat. He focused on walking up the stairs, keeping as much distance between himself and the mob heir, while his hand still gripped the shoulder of his jacket.  
  
He was pulled down the walkway and into one of the rooms where he was given a surprisingly strong. He stumbled slightly, staring at the group of older men. None of them were particularly attractive. They peered up in his direction with noses crooked and scabbed knuckles. Many had discarded their jackets, revealing guns propped in holsters over their shoulders. Behind him, he heard Hyungwon close the door gently, followed by the rustle of clothing.  
  
“Take off your jacket,” Hyungwon ordered. Hoseok pursed his lips together and silently unfastened his cheap jacket, folding it over his arm. Hyungwon’s shoes clicked against the floor and the coat was abruptly snatched from his arms. “Where did you get this?” Hyungwon cocked his head to the side. “The back of a disposal unit?” Rather than set the jacket down on the back of a chair, he dropped it on the floor. “Take a seat.” Hoseok followed Hyungwon’s extended arm to the chair that he was pointing to. He didn’t even look at the male as he stepped forward and sat down, resting his sweaty palms on his knees. He felt bare in comparison to the strangers surrounding the table. Each were wearing complete black and equipped with weapons. Hoseok knew that they wouldn’t just have the guns that were currently visible.  
  
“Who’s he?” one of the large men asked.  
  
“A recruit,” Hyungwon answered, walking around the other side of the table, sinking himself into his own chair. He eyed Hoseok carefully, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards.  
  
“I’m L-Lee Hoseok,” he informed, bowing his head forward.  
  
“Lee Hoseok will be joining in our game,” Hyungwon declared. “You know how to play blackjack, don’t you?”  
  
“Yes, Master Chae,” Hoseok nodded his head. He had played before with his friends in order to pass the time. It was a quick game where a person had to get as close to twenty-one as they could. It was quick and a rather unusual game to suggest Hoseok thought. Hyungwon snapped his fingers and held out his hand, allowing a stack of cards to be set in his palm.  
  
“The rest of you, put in your bets. We’re just going to play one round.” Hoseok rubbed his hands against one another as he watched from his peripheral vision as the men pushed chips forward silently. From the colours alone, he could see they were paying with large sums of money. He eyed a few tokens, the lowest being a thousand token. “Lee Hoseok, you needn’t worry about placing forward chips.” Hoseok knitted his eyebrows together and peered up at the male who was busy shuffling.  
  
“Pardon, sir, I don’t understand,” he pronounced. A laugh touched Hyungwon’s lips and slowly he glanced up at Hoseok, a dark glint of amusement evident in his eyes.  
  
“I told you would, you would give you the chance to rectify your mistake,” Hyungwon said, “You’re betting something that’s not a material object. If you lose against me, you lose your life.” Hoseok could feel the eyes falling onto him as people watched him. His blood ran cold and he dropped his eyes to the cards in Hyungwon’s hands and studied how he brushed his fingers against the edge of the cards. There was a ghostly smile framing his lips, but as quickly as it had appeared the mischievous grin vanished and was replaced by a straight face.  
  
As the dealer, he placed a singular card down to the man on his left first before stretching his arm across the table to placed cards around in a circle before each player, leaving himself last. When he went around the second time, he flipped one of his cards over, revealing a king of hearts. Hyungwon didn’t even look down at the card that he had revealed. Leaning into the back of his chair, he gestured for the players to peer at their own. Shakily Hoseok lifted up the two he had received, staring down at them. In his hand was a four of diamonds and a two of clubs, giving him a total of six. It wasn’t a bad starting number, but it wasn’t that good either. He could risk receiving a ten.  
  
“Hit,” spoke the man seated at Hyungwon’s left. The boy passed him a third card, permitting the older man to glace over it before he requested for another. Without missing a beat, Hyungwon held out another card for him to take, however his eyes were focused on Hoseok, his face blank. “Bust.”  
  
“You got too cocky Kim,” Hyungwon commented, his interest in the recruit never wavering. He continued to pass cards around when the other two asked for them until they said ‘stand’, signifying that they were going to remain on the number they had acquired. Hyungwon’s fingers hovered over the top card of the deck as he carefully watched Hoseok.  
  
“Hit,” Hoseok said. Hyungwon slid the card off the pile and held it out towards Hoseok, permitting the male to take the card from his hand. Hoseok set it with the other two he was already holding. It was an ace. It could either be a one or a ten. Therefore, he either had a total of seven or sixteen. “Hit,” he repeated. He shuddered hearing the flick of the card against the pile of cards Hyungwon gripped. A three. He was doing well. He could possibly beat Chae Hyungwon. He either needed an ace, ten, or a face card. “Hit.” Once more Hyungwon held a card in Hoseok’s direction.  
  
“Careful Lee Hoseok, you can’t afford a bust,” Hyungwon taunted. In his hand, was the queen of hearts.  
  
“Stand,” he murmured. He bit the inside of his lip. He knew he shouldn’t be too nervous as he was on twenty. The last player by his side was lazily resting his arm on the back of his chair. His cards were placed on the table, turned over so that no one could see what he had.    
  
“Double down,” he uttered, pushing an identical stack of his previous tokens onto the table.  
  
“Feeling lucky, are we?” spat the man Hyungwon had addressed as Kim.  
  
“Maybe I am,” the man replied with a shrug of his shoulders.  
  
“We all know why you’re so confident, you’ve been counting,” Kim accused. “That’s why you sat on the right of Master Chae, you fucking cheat.”  
  
“Gentlemen,” Hyungwon interrupted, pushing a final card in the man’s direction, “That’s enough.” He exhaled softly and placed the stack of remaining cards in front of him. “If you would be so kind as to turn over your cards.” One at a time they revealed their cards. “A seventeen, two nineteens and a twenty. You did well Hoseok.”  
  
Hoseok heard the sound of the man that was between Hyungwon and himself curse under his breath with irritation. To his right, the tar scented man snickered as though he was hiding a joke. He scanned the rest of the table. Kim, despite having received a bust at the very beginning, was grinning. The final man, was slouched over in his seat avoiding eye contact with everyone. Hoseok had beat them, now all that was left was to see if he had attained a higher number than Hyungwon. That was the only thing that counted. He couldn’t tell what the man across was thinking; what thoughts were running through his head. He didn’t even make a move to divulge in exposing what his second card was.  
  
“Let’s see just how well you did,” Hyungwon murmured, slowly turning over his card. His gaze slid down to see that the card was an ace of spades. A perfect twenty-one. “I believe that means, you lost. The rest of you, get out.” No one objected to Hyungwon’s command and promptly slipped on their coats and walked out of the room, closing the door behind them, ultimately leaving Hoseok and Hyungwon in the room alone.  
  
This was it. Hoseok would be dying tonight for knocking his superior over and wreaking his coat with cheap alcohol. He hadn’t thought that he would lost his life this quickly upon entering the X Clan. He had been aware that it was dangerous and that he was risking his life, but he hadn’t accounted for things to be like this. He was going to be one of the many mutilated bodies that Hyungwon disposed of.  
  
“You did well for a game that is down to pure guessing,” Hyungwon stated.  
  
“You seemed confident,” Hoseok replied, “You didn’t draw any further cards.” Hyungwon nodded his head slightly, giving a hum of approval.  
  
“I would lie and say that I was hoping that you would win, however  _I_ don’t like to lose,” Hyungwon explained. “I have never lost a game, and I don’t plan to lose to a pathetic game like Blackjack.”  
  
“You don’t like to lose? Are you confessing to cheating?” Hoseok knew it was probably not the wisest thing to say, especially since that man could put a bullet through his head at any given time. Was he really foolish enough to piss him off? Rather than get angry with him though, Hyungwon laughed. He stood, loosening the tight tied around his throat. He other hand slid into his pocket, not even brushing up against the guns had he had hanging beneath his armpits.  
  
“Perhaps I am,” Hyungwon winked, “But what does it matter if I did or didn’t? I hold your life in the palm of my hand.” He walked around the table, pausing behind Hoseok. “And I get to choose the exact moment I decide to end your worthless life.”  
  
“You’re not going to kill me?” Hoseok questioned, a mask of confusion sweeping over his pale complexion.  
  
“At this point in time? No,” Hyungwon sighed gently. “Although, I may change my mind if you prove to be useless to me. You see Hoseok, I pride myself of knowing everything I can about everyone. That includes potential recruits. I’ve heard good things about you, so I’m willing to offer you a deal.”  
  
“What kind of deal?” Hoseok enquired.  
  
“My second, encountered a bit of an accident,” Hyungwon began. Hoseok had a hard time believing that it was a said accident. “I’m looking for someone to replace him. All you have to do, is pledge your loyalty to me and I’ll let you live. You’ll be off limits to anyone else; you’ll  _belong_  to me.” Hoseok shivered as Hyungwon placed his hands on either shoulder, sliding them forward down his chest. He could feel the male’s thumbs graze against his skin, stirring an uncomfortable feeling under his skin.  
  
It wasn’t as though he was left with much of a choice. He either died or followed Hyungwon’s orders. Most would leap at the opportunity of working directly for the heir of the entire mob, but Hoseok wasn’t so sure that was the smartest decision. Being close with Chae Hyungwon, especially with a death threat looming over his head, meant that he was under even more pressure not to fuck up. He wouldn’t be able to make a single mistake. Although he would be under the watchful eye of Chae Hyungwon, he was safe from everyone else. He knew that Hyungwon wouldn’t allow anyone to touch him; no one would be able to get near him.  
  
Then there were his own personal matters. It helped to be close to the young leader but was it worth the cost of his safety? He quickly reminded himself that he was always in danger while he was involved with the X Clan. The alternative however was death. He had found himself between a rock and a hard place. He gritted his teeth together, exhaling softly in order to slow the racing pace of his heart. It did little to assist it, but he liked to think that it helped.  
  
“Very well,” Hoseok nodded his head. “I solemnly pledge my allegiance to you, Chae Hyungwon.”  
  
“You’re not going to swear loyalty to my father?” Hyungwon probed.  
  
“If you wish for me to, then I shall,” he responded. Hyungwon trailed his hands up Hoseok’s pale shirt before squeezing his shoulders.  
  
“No,” Hyungwon answered sharply. “You’ll strictly be working for me.” There was a knock on the door and Hoseok felt Hyungwon’s grip slacken and he slowly removed his hands. “What is it?”  
  
“Master Chae, Kang’s here,” came the voice from the door.  
  
“Well, it seems like I have work to take care of. You’re free to go Lee Hoseok,” Hyungwon instructed, “We’ll be seeing one another very soon.” Hyungwon leaned down so that his lips brushed against Hoseok’s earlobe. “And I you think of trying to run, just know that I will be able to find you. And when I do, I won’t hesitate to kill you. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”


	2. Spilt Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now, first, I’m going to make you bleed. Your entire body is going to be coated in a thick layer of your own blood. And then, I’m going to make you scream. I’m going to make you beg for me to kill you. I’m going to break your weak bones,” Hyungwon snarled, his voice only loud enough for Kang to hear him speaking. “When I’m done, then I’m going to drive my knife into your throat and make you choke.” A sticky collection of Kang’s blood trickled down his cheek towards his jaw. The dark, sticky substance painted the side of his face red.
> 
> “Is that supposed to scare me?” Kang hissed.
> 
> “Kim,” Hyungwon called, pausing momentarily for effect. “Break his hand.”

Something that Hyungwon hated more than noise was waiting for answers. He had his arms folded across his chest as he leaned back against the wall of a warehouse. He had, had Kang literally dragged from The Star into the back of one of the cars and brought to the abandoned storage unit by the beach.  
  
Kang was currently seated on a metal chair, his arms and legs strapped down tightly so that his hands were practically white. A thick chain was bound around his chest, dipping towards his stomach. His hair was coated in sweat and blood was pooling from crevasses on his face; more specifically, a large cut that was by his upper left lip. Red and purple welts were already beginning to formulate against the surface of his naturally paler tone. His head lolled to the side as the man, Kim, collided his large fist with the side of his face. Even from where he was standing Hyungwon could feel the powerful force behind the punch. Kang grunted in pain, his breathing laboured and bruising eyes closed.  
  
“I tuh-told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kang spoke with a dry, rough tone. Kim scoffed and gripped Kang’s throat. Hyungwon glanced up, staring at the pathetic man, noting how the vein running down his forehead seemed to be prominent in the flickering lighting of the cool warehouse. He sighed softly and pushed himself away from the wall, allowing his shoes to clap and echo across the wide space.  
  
“Let him go,” he instructed. Kim’s jaw twitched but he released the man nonetheless. He wandered to the side, permitting Hyungwon to stand directly in front of Kang. The young male, uncrossed his arms and dropped them down by his side.  
  
“Master Chae,” Kang began, “Did your _daddy dearest_ know about this? Mh? I don’t think he’d be too impressed with you going behind his back again.” Kang let out a harsh laugh, his voice cracking as he spoke. Hyungwon’s facial expression didn’t waver as he let the man laugh; he would be the one laughing soon enough.  
  
“So, you’re an idiot as well as a traitor; I do suppose they fall hand in hand,” Hyungwon stated.  
  
“I’m not a traitor,” Kang spat. That was something Hyungwon admired and loathed about men like Kang; they didn’t know when to give up. Slowly he walked forward, gripping the slick hair and yanked Kang’s head back. The man hissed, his teeth clenched together.  
  
“I’ll let you in on a little piece of knowledge, perhaps with those two brain cells of yours you’ll be able to understand,” Hyungwon started, “I wanted to put a fucking pole through your head months ago. My father thought it you weren’t disposable. But now, he’s finally seeing things my way. You’re out of time Kang.” The male’s face paled at the heir’s words. Although they sounded soothing, the message he was transmitting was nothing but calming. Hyungwon leaned forward, breathing out a soft laugh as the corner of his mouth tilted up ever so slightly. “I _finally_ get to put your head on a spike.” He shoved Kang’s head back and let go. When he spoke next, his voice was considerably louder; clear enough for his men to hear him speak. “You’re right, my father would be pissed if he discovered I’d dismantled your face without his permission, however that doesn’t happen to be the case. You see, I was given specific instructions to make sure that he never had to lay eyes on your ugly mug again.”  
  
“I…now, there’s no need to be so rash, Master Chae,” Kang spoke, “I’m sure this is something that we can work out.”  
  
“Attached to your face, are we? I can’t see why,” Hyungwon countered. “It’s nothing special. You’re nothing special either. Just a lowlife that can easily be replaced.”  
  
“I’m not a traitor,” Kang repeated, his voice trembling with anger. “A lowlife, am I? What does that make you? _Whoreson_.” Hyungwon narrowed his eyes, his blood gradually beginning to simmer within his veins. “We all know it. Your mother was one of your father’s whores. The only reason why he hasn’t disowned you is because he doesn’t have someone to replace _you_.”  
  
“I’m glad,” Hyungwon uttered, his tone consistent, “I’m so glad that my father permitted me to be the one that has the pleasure of ending your worthless life.” Hyungwon moved around towards the back of the chair, all the while, reaching beneath the left sleeve of his black shirt to retreat a narrow knife Hyungwon brushed his thumb across the edge, testing the sharpness. “Now, how about I talk you through what I’m going to do to you. I’ve heard that knowing what’s to come allows you to prepare.”  
  
Hyungwon propped the blade against Kang’s cheek, digging the edge into the man’s leathery flesh. The tender skin split and blood pooled on the gleaming blade. Kang didn’t even flinch, only his eye twitched in reaction to the sensation of the knife cutting his cheek. The younger man’s hand was steady, slowly applying more pressure onto the handle.  
  
“Now, first, I’m going to make you bleed. Your entire body is going to be coated in a thick layer of your own blood. And then, I’m going to make you scream. I’m going to make you beg for me to kill you. I’m going to break your weak bones,” Hyungwon snarled, his voice only loud enough for Kang to hear him speaking. “When I’m done, then I’m going to drive my knife into your throat and make you choke.” A sticky collection of Kang’s blood trickled down his cheek towards his jaw. The dark, sticky substance painted the side of his face red.  
  
“Is that supposed to scare me?” Kang hissed.  
  
“Kim,” Hyungwon called, pausing momentarily for effect. “Break his hand.” The large man walked closer, removed his gun from it’s holster. From the corner of his eye, Hyungwon could make out what it is. He had been around guns enough to be able to differentiate the different types; this one was a Sig P226. The metal frame of the gun glinted in the light as Kim brought it down onto Kang’s hand. There was a sickening crunch accompanied by a scream from Kang’s lips. As if to further punish him for causing the sound to reverberate throughout the warehouse, Hyungwon forced the blade deeper into Kang’s skin.  
  
The man’s fingers were limp and there was a mark, plainly forming where Kim had struck. Even from where he was standing, Hyungwon saw how Kang’s hand had collapsed in on where his bones were broken. The man strapped in the chair was beginning to breath heavier, sucking in sharp breaths through his teeth.  
  
“You didn’t even let me get to the best part Kang,” Hyungwon commented. “Remember, _daddy dearest_ wanted me to make sure that he never saw your face again. I’m going to mount your head on a post and set it alight; use your ugly mug as a fucking torch. Brightest you’ll ever be.”  
  
The young heir then took his knife and plunged it into the soft tissue of his arm, just below his clavicle. Kang grunted in pain, his back pressed up against the back of the chair as the young boy slowly twisted the blade around. Hyungwon could feel het tension against the blade as he turned the knife, rotating it deeper into his flesh so that he could hear the sound of muscle squelching and blood oozing onto Kang’s clothing. He hadn’t expected there to be as much as there was currently. It dribbled from the wound in a slow steady stream. His own hand was positioned against Kang’s body, the red liquid staining the side of the glove he was wearing in order to keep his hands clean.  
  
“I must warn you, I’m not going to make this pleasant. I’m going to draw it out for as long as I want,” Hyungwon said, forcing the blade down. It jarred in the man’s skin as his body resisted the movement, but nonetheless, he managed to form a gaping wound. Kang’s broken hand looked useless in comparison to the pale fist he had created with the other hand. His breathing was ragged, his chest rose up and down abruptly and blood rolled down his cheeks like tears. “Unless of course you want to give me the name of the person, or people, you sold members out to.”  
  
Kang said nothing in response. His cracked lips were pushed tightly together as to not even let a breath slip passed. Half of his face was painted in his blood, hiding the bruising beneath it. It dripped from his jaw and rolled down his neck.  
  
Hyungwon scoffed at his silence and yanked the knife from his shoulder, stepped to the side and drove it into the inside of his thigh, a few inches away from his crotch. Kang let out a yell of pain, gargling on his own saliva. It was obvious that he was trying to present himself in a way that showed he wasn’t in any pain. He was miserably failing at it Hyungwon thought. He had seen men not even flinch as he stabbed them. Instead they would lock eyes with him, daring him to proceed further. Kang was weak. He would have no issue with uncovering the information that he needed.  
  
“I missed,” he taunted. He of course had done it on purpose in hopes that Kang would be a little more willing to comply.  
  
“I don’t know his name,” Kang’s voice came out in a growl.  
  
“That’s not the answer I was looking for,” Hyungwon sighed.  
  
“I’m telling you the truth; I don’t really know his name! He used to go by the pseudonym the Red Royal,” Kang exclaimed. “Hung around Min’s place quite a bit. You know the one.” Hyungwon wrenched the knife from Kang’s thigh, the silver blade dark with blood. The metallic scent filled the air.  
  
“Is he one of Min’s men?” Hyungwon enquired.  
  
“I don’t know,” exasperated. “That’s just where I met up with him. I think he was working alone.” What an idiot. It was foolish enough to go against the X Clan as it was, but this unknown stranger decided to do it by himself.  
  
“What were you getting out of it?” Hyungwon pressed.  
  
“Money,” Kang responded curtly. “And a one-way ticket out of this city.”  
  
“Well I can’t offer you money for you cooperation,” Hyungwon mused, walking towards Kim. He snatched het gun from his hands. “I can offer you a quicker way out.” He lifted up the gun, drawing his finger back against the trigger. He felt the gun click, releasing the bullet towards Kang.  
  
The bullet sunk into Kang’s throat; dead centre. Blood sprayed across the back of the chair and Kang’s head was throat back. Hyungwon tilted the gun up a few millimetres and fired again. This time the bullet flew higher and pierced under his chin, disappearing into his head. His body jerked upon impact, his limbs limb. E was like a rag doll. A bloodied rag doll.  
  
Hyungwon held out the gun, passing it back to Kim. He walked towards the doorway with his knife still in hand. He drew out a handkerchief from his pocket, cleaning his blade of the traitor’s blood. He could feel eyes on him as his men awaited their orders of what to do with Kang’s body. For a few minutes, Hyungwon said nothing. He was too preoccupied in cleaning his weapon down. Besides, they had to wait for him. He wasn’t obligated to answer their questions until he was ready; regardless of how long that took.  
  
“Burn him,” he finally spoke. “Once he is unrecognisable, stick his head on a spike and deliver it to the recruitment accommodation. They need to see with their own eyes what happens to people who betray the X Clan and that now that they’re in, the only way out is through death.”  
  
“What do you want us to do with his body?” came the question.  
  
“I don’t give a shit,” Hyungwon replied. “Discard it in the ocean for all I care. Just deal with it.” There was a chorus of ‘yes sir’s behind him as he put his knife away. “Before I forget, attach a note for Lee Hoseok. I want him to be prepared to see me on Monday. I’ll give him the weekend to collect himself, then I’m sure I’ll have something for him.”  
  
“He’s not dead?” came Kim’s voice. Hyungwon snapped his head over his shoulders, narrowing his icy gaze. For a large man, Kim appeared discomforted by the fact that his superior’s eyes were on him. In hopes to avoid this, he looked down submissively.  
  
“Do as you’re instructed, no questions asked,” Hyungwon warned, “Unless of course you want to turn out like Kang here?”  
  
“No sir,” Kim muttered.  
  
“Then get to work,” he bit back. Hyungwon didn’t bother staying around for the burning of Kang’s body, however he could smell the sickening smell of the man’s burning flesh even from outside the building. Outside there were three cards in total parked. The two that his men had travelled in, and his own where his driver still sat, patiently waiting for him. He climbed into the back of the car, exhaling as he leaned back.  
  
“Returning home young master?” his driver enquired. Hyungwon grunted softly as he nodded his head in clarification. The car rumbled beneath his worn body and without another work, he was being taken from the abandoned warehouse back home.  
  
The penthouse was silent when Hyungwon returned to his home, slipping off his shoes by the door and stacked them neatly on the rack. Normally he would remove his jacket, but as it now was ruined, he couldn’t very well do that. He removed his strapped weapons and set them on the shelf so that they were out of his way. He tiredly rubbed his eyes with a gentle groan of exhaustion. The metallic scent of blood, a familiar smell, wafted from his hands and slowly he drew them away from his face. Staring down at his hands, there was no trace of blood, but even so he made his way towards the bathroom.  
  
The bathroom itself was perhaps the side of a standard individuals’ bedroom. The shower itself had enough room to compact eight of his largest men inside with room to spare. Stepping towards the shower, he turned the hot water on then stepped back to strip himself of his alcohol scented clothing. He wrinkled his nose in disgust and tossed them on the floor, not caring about making a mess. Someone would come and clean it for him later anyway. He never had to worry about mess. There was always someone he could order to take care of it for him. He simply got to play around and when he was finished, he could walk away. It was similar to what he had just done with Kang. He’d killed him and was now letting someone else take care of getting rid of the body.  
  
Stepping beneath the warm water of the shower, he moaned quietly as the water wrapped around his tense muscles. He tilted his head back, allowing it to pour across his face, splashing across his closed eyes and dripping off the side of his jaw. His hair absorbed the water, clinging to the droplets that wanted to fall. Dipping his hair forward, the water spilled down his back, his spine like the channel the river of water was following. The water rolled over the ‘x’ stylised tattoo that was inked just by his right shoulder blade.  
  
Hyungwon peeled his eyes open and stared the water as it twisted and disappeared down the drain. Beads of liquid dripped from his eyelashes and all he could hear was the rumble of water gushing passed his ears. His hand snapped forward and took hold of the tap, which controlled the hot water. He gripped it tightly so that his skin became milky white. He gritted his teeth together and slowly, twisted the knob. The water that poured onto his body became hotter, now turning his golden skin a pale red. He didn’t seem to notice. The heat burned, but in a good way. It was as though he was sterilising his body.  
  
He breathed out a shaky breath and dropped his hand down by his side. He stood still, unmoving as his body was coated in the hot water, splattering off his skin and plastering his dark hair to his forehead. The shower was quick to fog up with steam, causing a haziness to cloud his vision. The glass door was coated in mist, making it near impossible to see through the glass. The humid air filled Hyungwon’s lungs and the water stung his skin. Although it was hot, he was numb.  
  
Finally, after standing under the sweltering water for nearly fifteen minutes in complete stillness, he took hold of the washing lotions, particularly the coconut and some foreign oil scented body wash. Rather than immediately apply it to his body, he poured it onto his hands and took hold of the luffa. He scrubbed it against his hands, scratching at the soft skin until it was bright red. He rubbed the back of his nails continuing to do so for the next couple of minutes, even after there was no possible way any unwanted contaminants were still on his hands. It was as though he was trying to permanently turn his hands red.   
  
Hyungwon suddenly dropped the luffa, the water pouring over his hands, revealing the red damage he had inflicted. He inspected the redness, turning over his hands. His skin was softer after perhaps scrubbing off a few layers of rough skin. That hadn’t, of course, been his purpose. He could smell the coconut and lavish oil scent on his hands. It was strong and already the alcohol aroma that had been filled in the casino was promptly vanishing from his nostrils. He could still smell the metallic scent of Kang’s blood; however, he had since grown accustomed to it. Here was always blood being spilt. It was something that seemed to unavoidable; especially now.

 

* * *

 

Although it was the middle of the night, the Seoul precinct had a specialised unit still busily working. The task force was comprised of a few select detectives, as to keep the case away from any possible infiltration. There were a series of gruelling interviews and thorough background checks to determine who would be involved. Currently there was a selection of ten members in the task force. Three detectives working out in the field, four in charge of interviewing regular civilians and stocking up on simplistic information, two metaphorically shackled to their desks and their commander.  
  
 A figure had their head resting on the table top, their dark hair covering their forehead messily and their computer screen having fallen black due to their inactivity. By their head was a half empty cup of brown contents; coffee. The stale scent circled the air and the flicker of paper could be heard over the soft hum of electronical equipment. The figure’s breathing was slow and their body had slackened. Their head was tilted against the rim of the computer keyboard, ultimately digging into the side of their face.  
  
In the dim lighting of the room, a shadow was cast across their body as large male stood in front of the sleeping figure’s desk. On their leathery face, a look of concern was masking their expression. His uniform was ruffled and like his sleeping subordinate, his hair too was messy. Dark rings curled beneath his almond eyes, reflecting his exhaustion. He let out a sigh and placed a hand on his subordinate’s shoulder gently, but the limp figure didn’t stir. He didn’t give his commander any indication that he was waking up. His breathing continued to slowly draw in and out.  
  
“Changkyun,” the older man called out. At the sound of his name, the sleeping figure mumbled nonsense. He ceased breathing for a few moments, before releasing a heavy sigh. “Changkyun,” the commander repeated. He shook the young boy’s shoulder, earning a soft groan from the tired boy. “Changkyun.” The third time the man called out the boy’s name, he rose his voice. Against the keyboard, the brown-haired boy shifted, wrinkling his face into one of annoyance as he lifted his head with his eyes still closed. On the side of his face was an imprint of where the keyboard had been leaning against his skin.  
  
“Mm?” he hummed. The older man frowned and dropped his hand down from Changkyun’s shoulder. The young boy peeled open his eyes, blinking twice before he tilted his head up to see who was standing before him. “Inspector,” he exclaimed. He automatically lifted his hands up to his face to rub the sleep from his eyes, clearing his throat awkwardly. He shifted his body forward, dragging his chair closer to his desk.  
  
“When was the last time you went home Detective Lim?” The young boy dropped his hands down, placing his right on the mouse and shifted it across his desk, ultimately igniting the screen of his computer. There were several documents open in front of a couple tabs. One of which was his emails, which revealed he had acquired three emails since he had fallen asleep.  
  
“Don’t worry about me sir,” Changkyun responded. “I was reading through a report update before…” Warmth spread across his body and a light shade of redness made its way over his cheeks. He was embarrassed to say the least.  
  
“Anything useful to the case?” the Inspector enquired.  
  
“Nothing so far,” Changkyun shook his head, his eyes still feeling weary. It was difficult to keep them open having just been stirred from his unintentional rest. “I am waiting on an update from Detective Yoo.”  
  
“I’ll let you get back to your work,” the Inspector replied. “And Changkyun, go home at some point. You look like you need a decent night’s sleep.”  
  
“I’m fine,” Changkyun answered, “But I will sir.” The older man made a sound of approval from the back of his throat and left Changkyun alone at his desk. Once he was out of sight Changkyun let out a soft sigh and hung his head forward. Gradually he lifted his hand up to the side of his face, rubbing the area which had been embedded with the imprint from his computer. He could still feel the sunken prints on his face. He reached a hand forward, feeling the handle of his coffee mug and brought it too his lips without hesitation.  
  
“Changk…” spoke a voice to his side. The young male realised his mistake, once the contents came in contact with his tongue. The coffee was cold and bitter. He glanced down at the swirling brown contents before adjusting his gaze to rest on his colleague who was stationed a few metres over. The boy watched him in shock as he sat with cold coffee in his mouth. Changkyun didn’t move as the two stared at one another silently. “Just spit it out,” sighed the other officer.  
  
Changkyun nodded his head, humming a ‘thank you’. He leaned his head forward, allowing the contents to spill back into the mug. He grimaced and placed the mug gently back down on the top of the desk. He could still taste the coffee on his tongue and it was less than unpleasant. Changkyun didn’t really like coffee to begin with. He only consumed it when he was required to give work his undivided attention.  
  
“Here, have mine, it’s freshly made,” the male stated, standing and lifted up his own mug to bring it over to Changkyun.  
  
“It’s alright,” Changkyun objected. “I can make my own Jooheon.”  
  
“I insist,” Jooheon set the mug down by Changkyun’s hand. “You need it more than me.” The younger boy uttered a quiet ‘thankyou’ and wrapped his hands around the warm mug.  
  
“How’s your work going?” Changkyun queried. Jooheon rubbed the back of his neck, sighing softly. In comparison to the younger boy, he wasn’t wearing his jacket and his hair was pulled back from his face in a small bun set at the back of his head. A few loose strands fell on the side of his face and spread across his forehead. His tie was loose and his sleeves had neatly been folded up. In comparison, Changkyun was still fully dressed with his coat buttoned up, his collar unevenly sticking up and his dark hair a mess. He sat hunched over on the edge of his chair, his hands awkwardly placed on his knees, which were firmly pushed together.  
  
“I’m updating the files on all the information that we have,” Jooheon stated, “It’s surprisingly quite a lot, but not enough. We have names, some evidence, the hierarchy, behavioural patterns and a list of activities dating back nearly two years ago. We need to make sure that that when we arrest these motherfuckers, that we can get all of them and that they can’t weasel their way out of it. They have loopholes everywhere.”  
  
“I know,” Changkyun nodded his head. He placed his left hand against his stomach and reached forward with his right to take the mug Jooheon had set on his table. “And we will. We’re not going to let them get away.” Changkyun had only began assisting with the case that year, and due to his lack of experience, he received little information. He was simply in charge of transferring any information he had over to someone more ‘qualified’ than himself.  
  
“So, what have you got?” Jooheon quizzed. “When was the last time you heard from Yoo Kihyun?”  
  
“Not for a couple of weeks. I haven’t received any new information since the last update,” he sighed gently, “At the time the recruits were being weeded out. I don’t know if the initiatives have been accepted yet.”  
  
“Stupid kids,” Jooheon muttered under his breath. “I don’t understand why they get themselves caught in business like that.”  
  
“It’s not really surprising,” Changkyun responded, “They are promised power, wealth and they get off the streets. Gambling and drinking is regularly for fun and blowing off the heads of those they don’t like is considered acceptable. For people who have nothing, it’s a way to come out on top.” He felt Jooheon’s eyes on him, watching him in silence. He made a small sound and folded his arms slowly across his chest.  
  
“If you say so,” the slightly older male mumbled. The small black, work phone rang, vibrating on Changkyun’s desk. He lifted the device up and stared down at the screen, seeing that it read ‘private’ in bold, capital letters. He didn’t even look up at Jooheon as he brought it to his ear.  
  
“Hello, Changkyun speaking,” he answered.  
  
“ _Changkyun, it’s good to hear your voice,_ ” came the reply. It frowned slightly at the unfamiliar tone. The speaker must have noticed his hesitation since he continued to add, “ _It’s Kihyun. Don’t tell me you guys have already forgotten me._ ”  
  
“Kihyun?” Changkyun exclaimed quietly. Jooheon’s body went rigid and he leaned forward. Changkyun held up his hand, silently asking for him to be quiet. “How are you? Are you alright?”  
  
“ _I’m fine; physically anyways,_ ” Kihyun replied curtly, “ _Listen, I don’t have much time to talk. Jung thinks I’m off buying cigarettes._ ”  
  
“Okay, shoot,” Changkyun nodded his head once before grimacing at his choice of words.  
  
“ _The admittance has been completed, Kim informed us a few hours ago. Fuck, it was brutal, those who didn’t make it were killed as far as I know._ ”  
  
“Shit, so much for building up an empire,” Changkyun murmured. “Have you heard anything –”  
  
“ _No, I’m working on it,_ ” Kihyun cut in, “ _But I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to find anything out unless I continue working my way up. I’ve already earnt myself a bit of a status at the moment; much to my discretion._ ”  
  
“It’s alright, I don’t need to know the details, you just do what you need to do,” Changkyun shook his head.  
  
“ _I’m sending a couple of files to task force, but I’m letting you know now that they’re not for the feint of heart. There’s documents outlining transactions and information exchanged between Chae and his loyal followers; ones that are in charge like Min. The picture’s, they’re not pretty,_ ” Kihyun spoke into the receiver. “ _I think things are about to get worse Changkyun, everyone seems to be on their toes at the moment. People are being murdered, left, right and centre. I think that’s why they needed fresh blood. They need new people they can mould in order to replace the traitors. And believe me, there are a lot._ ”  
  
“Why are they getting rid of so many of their own? It seems like a risky move on their part.”  
  
“ _It’s risky to keep the traitors in power,_ ” Kihyun countered, “ _Chae is cleansing those who aren’t loyal to the X Clan. He’s getting rid of anyone he sees as a threat. Anyone who has done him wrong._ ”  
  
“And what about his son, Hyungwon?”  
  
“ _I don’t hear much about him, it’s as though it’s blasphemous to say his name. Word though is Chae is using his son as a tool, like a weapon. That’d be about right,_ ” Kihyun added with a scoff. “ _He’s preparing him. God only knows what shit he’s doing. I’ll look into him._ ”  
  
“Be careful Kihyun,” Changkyun warned, concern lacing his tone. He knew Kihyun was smart, but it was a dangerous mission. Especially if Chae was aiming to get rid of any traitor. If it was discovered that Kihyun was an undercover officer, he would be certainly dead. He not only worried about the outcome of the operation but also feared for Kihyun’s life.  
  
“ _I’m always careful,_ ” Kihyun laughed, “ _Anyways I’ve got to go. Or else they’ll get suspicious. I’ll try and contact you when I have more information. But the files should have enough for now._ ”  
  
“Thank you,” Changkyun sat up right in his chair, “I’ll pass on your information.”  
  
“ _Still treating you like messenger boy?_ ” Kihyun spoke in a teasing manner. “ _It’ll get better, trust me. I was there once. Talk soon. Good bye Changkyun._ ” The younger male didn’t get a change to say his farewell as the line suddenly went dead and all he could hear was the dial tone. He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the blank screen.  
  
“Well?” Jooheon prompted.  
  
“He’s sending us a few files that apparently have more information. He didn’t have time to talk me through everything. Recruitment is complete and it would appear that the X Clan is having a thorough cleanse.” He placed the phone down with a quiet sigh. “I’m worried about him.”  
  
“I know, but he knows what he’s doing. This isn’t the first time he’s been undercover. He’ll be fine,” Jooheon reassured. Changkyun nodded, taking a sip of the warm coffee Jooheon had given him. It was a little more bitter than what he was used to, but he supposed it didn’t matter. So long as it did its job, that was all that he cared about.  
  
“Have you ever worked undercover?” Changkyun enquired curiously.  
  
“Me? No, never, I don’t think I could deal with all that shit,” Jooheon shook his head briskly, “Changkyun, I get that you’re new, but even you must know what kind of stuff an undercover cop has to go through. Kihyun’s undoubtedly probably had to kill a few people already.”  
  
“I know that,” Changkyun bit back, his voice a low grumble, “Just because I’m new, it doesn’t mean that I’m stupid. I was just asking a question is all.”  
  
“I don’t think I have the stomach to be able to do that,” Jooheon continued, disregarding the fact that he had insulted the younger. “I don’t do well with blood, at least not in person. I think I would like to stay sorting through evidence and research.” Jooheon ran his tongue across his lower lip and tilted his head to the side as he studied the young boy. “Why? Do you think you could do it?” Changkyun felt as though he had been caught committing a heinous crime, even though he had done quite literally nothing. His fingers were still around the mug and slowly he lowered it back down onto the table.  
  
“I don’t know. I know that Kihyun’s just doing what he has to, to survive. Even so, I don’t know if it’s morally just.”  
  
“Ah, I see, so yours is a conscious thing rather than squeamishness?” Jooheon nodded his head once. “I understand. That kind of thing fucks you up; messes with your head.” Changkyun supposed Jooheon was right. It would mess with anyone’s head. But if it was between someone else and himself surviving, Changkyun knew that he would more than likely want to save himself. Anyone would want to save themselves first, especially if it was inevitable. Hat the time he probably wouldn’t think about the guilt that would ensue.    
  
“How did Kihyun manage it the first time?” Changkyun murmured.  
  
“Honestly, he didn’t,” Jooheon confession. “He took nearly two months leave to recuperate. He was in therapy for nearly a year too. When he was asked to go back undercover to investigate the X Clan, he declined at first. But a few weeks later, he changed his mind. He knew it was a dangerous mission and frankly, I think he didn’t want anyone else to go through what he went through, so he went instead. In a way, I guess he was trying to play the hero. But he’s a fighter, if anyone can pull through it, he can. I would trust him with my life.”  
  
Changkyun knew what Jooheon meant by that sentiment. He also would trust Kihyun with his life. The man that was currently hiding beneath the X Clan’s nose was Yoo Kihyun the mobster, the Kihyun he knew was a loyal police officer who would do anything to protect his squad. Even if he didn’t directly say it and regardless of his attitude towards some of his co-workers, he did what he thought was best for them. It was something that Changkyun admired about him. He did look up to all of the officers around him. Each of them brought something new to the metaphorical table. Chankyun only hoped that he could be successful like them; that he could prove that was just as capable.


	3. Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Not what you were expecting?” he mused. Hoseok turned to see the mafia heir standing in a loose, silky dress shirt which was tucked into a pair of tight black jeans. His hair was ruffled and in his hand was a wine glass. “Were you expecting black walls? Blood stained floors? Perhaps a suit of armour by the door?” 
> 
> “I don’t really know what I expected, to be honest,” Hoseok replied. 
> 
> “Honesty? I like honesty,” he said absentmindedly.

The soft hum of the elevator rising also rose the pace of Hoseok’s heart. It throbbed in his chest, beating seemingly faster with each passing second. His dark eyes fell to the floor numbers that lit up briefly as he passed each floor. His hands were by his sides, balled up in tight fists. He dug his nails into the soft flesh of his palm. The rest of his body was tense. He could feel pain surging down from his neck to his toes, which were curled up inside his shoes. He felt cold and his body was like rubber. His palms were sweating with anticipation.  
  
Shakily, he turned his head to glance up at the tall slender man that was next to him. It was an older man with a frail looking body. Wispy hairs grew from his chin and his hair was significantly receding on the top of his head. Despite his elderly appearance, his eyes reminded Hosoek of a hawk. They were narrowed and permanently glued to Hoseok who stood anxiously in the elevator. Just behind the older man stood a younger boy who was lethargically leaning against the wall with an expression of disinterest. He paid no mind to Hoseok, instead opting to pick at the skin surrounding his index fingernail.  
  
Strangely Hoseok felt more at ease with the men downstairs in the foyer that searched him before letting him enter the elevator. They had to make sure that he had no potential weapons on him before meeting Chae Hyungwon. He understood that they were securing the mafia heir’s safety. Now he was silently standing inside an elevator with two strangers, who although posed him little threat, he was still getting closer to Hyungwon.  
  
Hoseok had been a little rattled undoubtably when a man’s head had been delivered to the building where the new recruits had been lodging. The head of an unidentifiable man had been skewered on a broken metal pipe. His face was charred and partially melted. It was the second time something like that had happened. This time however, it sent an unwritten message that the only way out of the X Clan was through death. There had been serval pale faces as they were forced to look at the burnt human head.  
  
“We’re here,” the elderly spoke up. Hoseok exhaled softly looking at the opening doors. He had been so caught up in his thoughts, he hadn’t even heard the ‘ding’ of the elevator arriving at the penthouse floor. He released his clenched fists and nodded his head once,  
  
The older man turned his attention to his companion. The young boy stood up straight, brushing out the end of his shirt. He walked forward, leading Hoseok out of the elevator, which was being held open. He showed him across the foyer to the only door on the floor. Outside the large double door stood two rather large men. There was a lot of security Hoseok noticed. Even if someone managed to get through the front doors and travel up the elevator, any intruder would still have to go through these two men.  
  
“What’s your name again?” questioned the teenager, his voice no louder than a mere whisper as they approached the front door.  
  
“Lee Hoseok,” he answered.  
  
“Master Chae’s invited guest, Lee Hoseok, is here to see him,” the boy rose his voice, his voice clear. In comparison to his idle demeanour in the elevator, standing in front of the two bodyguards, he was respectful and alert.  
  
“You’re late,” uttered one, who had his hair cut short. Hoseok could feel his throat drying as he met the burning gaze of the bodyguard. “He is expecting you in the sitting room.” Hoseok didn’t know whether he was supposed to apologise or not, and in his state of discomfort, he said nothing. Gently one of the large double doors was pushed open. The young male took a moment to stare at the open passageway before he felt the teenager gesture for him to walk forward. Silently he stepped forward and entered the penthouse, listening to the sound of the doors close heavily behind him.  
  
Hoseok was now standing in a grand foyer. To his surprise the walls were painted cream white. The dark wooden doors, now that he was standing alone, he could see were possibly hand carved. Beautiful shapes and figures were etched into the possibly imported wooden door. Illuminating the hall was a crystal chandelier. Rather than the typical chandelier that had series of gems attached to a ring, it fell on thin, almost invisible chains in a spiralling pattern.  
  
Quietly he slid off his shoes, awkwardly leaving them by the door neatly. Walking forward down the hall, it opened up into a large space with high ceilings. One wall was complete made of glass, giving him a view of the city below the tall tower. The morning sun had risen since he had entered the building and shimmered its light across the city. The sky was painted a mixture of blue, red and orange.  
  
The wall adjacent the window wall, was deep blue. It contrasted nicely against the shelves that were the same dark wood as the front door. He didn’t have much time to inspect the rest of his surroundings as Hyungwon’s voice suddenly entered his ears.  
  
“Not what you were expecting?” he mused. Hoseok turned to see the mafia heir standing in a loose, silky dress shirt which was tucked into a pair of tight black jeans. His hair was ruffled and in his hand was a wine glass. “Were you expecting black walls? Blood stained floors? Perhaps a suit of armour by the door?”  
  
“I don’t really know what I expected, to be honest,” Hoseok replied.  
  
“Honesty? I like honesty,” he said absentmindedly. Hyungwon moved forward, placing a hand on Hoseok’s lower back. “Take a seat.” Hoseok moved forward, glancing back at Hyungwon and carefully sat down on one of the large chaise lounges. As he peered towards the male, a shiver ran up his spine from the light touch of his hand. He settled himself on the edge, his hands resting on his knees as Hyungwon took a seat in one of the other white leather couches. He crossed his bare feet and tilted the wine glass in his hand, staring at the red contents.

  
“Isn’t it a bit early to be drinking?” Hoseok spoke up boldly. A laugh escaped Hyungwon’s mouth as the corners of his lips tilted upwards.  
  
“It’s happy hour somewhere,” he answered, “And as it turns out, you’re the only person on my agenda today. Don’t you feel lucky?”  
  
“I’m not quite sure ‘lucky’ is the right word for it.”  
  
“Many would agree with you,” Hyungwon nodded his head once. Softly he drummed his fingers against the arm of the couch, slowly lifting up the glass to his lips to consume the sweet beverage. “Tell me, how did you end up with the other recruits? It’s not an easy thing to do. Most people have to know someone on the inside already. How are _you_ going to be useful to me?”  
  
“I collect information on people, I track them down,” Hoseok informed. “I’m good with networking, both by means of interactions and with following transitions…I’m not a hitman,” he added, remembering how Ahn had assumed he was a soldier for the X Clan. Hyungwon arched an eyebrow in response.  
  
“Not that I don’t doubt your skills of uncovering social information, but I have someone for that. And believe me, he could uncover material on someone even if he doesn’t have a name,” Hyungwon sighed softly and hung his head back. “Continue.” Hoseok’s throat felt dry as he swallowed. His fingers were curled into tight fists in an attempt to ease his nervousness.  
  
“I found myself in a bit of trouble with the police,” Hoseok stated.  
  
“Oh? What did you do?” Hyungwon enquired, his tone suggesting he was intrigued.  
  
“Nothing too drastic,” Hoseok replied vaguely. “They let me off; something about me being a minor or lack of evidence.” He shifted back, the leather squelching beneath his body. His gaze flickered away from Hyungwon to stare at the wall momentarily. “A few weeks later I was approached by this guy. Not much older than me but he taught me what he knew.”  
  
“Where is he now?” Hyungwon probed.  
  
“I don’t know; he keeps a low profile. I think he works under a Kim.”  
  
“What’s his name?” Hyungwon continued. He didn’t look at Hoseok, but rather kept his attention on the glass in his hand. He watched the liquid roll around in the glass as he lazily rotated his wrist. There was a pause before Hoseok answered him.  
  
“Son. Son Hyunwoo,” he murmured.  
  
“Kwon,” Hyungwon spoke abruptly, “He works under Kwon. You’re right, he is a hard man to contact.”  
  
“Have you met him?” Hoseok queried. Hyungwon froze, darting his tongue across his lower lip quickly. After a moment, he resumed tilted his wrist languidly, sloshing the liquid in the glass.  
  
“No, I haven’t had the pleasure,” Hyungwon replied. “But I know enough about him to be able to identify him in a crowd.” Hyungwon brought his glass to his lips, throwing his head back to down the remaining contents. Once he was satisfied he leaned forward, placing the empty glass on the low table with a gentle _clink_. He let out a soft breath and nestled himself comfortably into the lounge. “Do you have a tendency to skim over information?”  
  
“Pardon?”  
  
“Did you think I went into this meeting with you, without any knowledge about you?” Hyungwon scoffed, “Even a businessman looks over someone’s resume before giving them an interview. First and foremost, I am a businessman Hoseok. The information had gathered on you, let’s just say that, that was _your_ resume.”  
  
“Why would you question me then? If you already have the information?” Hoseok retorted, a frown appearing on his face as his eyes locked with the male sitting across from him. “Isn’t it a waste of your time.”  
  
“Call it a test. Why else do people hold interviews? You can’t tell simply by reading a piece of paper if someone is capable of what you want them to do.”  
  
“And what is it you want me to do?” Hoseok asked. Hyungwon slowly rose to his feet and slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his thumbs gently resting on the outside of the pocket. Hoseok found himself tilting his head back in order to continue looking up at the tall, lean male who stalked towards him so that he was standing directly in front of him.  
  
The juxtaposing levels made Hoseok strangely feel smaller than what he was. He was sure that if he was required to fight someone of Hyungwon’s figure, he would all but snap the poor individual in half. He knew though, that although the young heir didn’t appear as though he was physically strong, he shouldn’t underestimate him. He was no doubt trained in various forms of martial arts that could be utilised in overpowering even someone that was stronger.  
  
“What I want is someone who can offer me several things. It is a nuisance to surround myself with people each tasked for different things. It becomes a tedious chore; moving back and forth, communicating with so many people who could just very well fuck me over. Although it would be preferable that people would just do as they’re instructed, there are those who think of themselves as…” Hyungwon trailed off in thought. He hummed gently, cocking his head back slightly. “How do I put this? Think of themselves indestructible? I would rather deal with one foolish traitor rather than a revolt.”  
  
Hoseok wasn’t so sure he was liking where this conversation was heading. If Hyungwon didn’t want him or his networking abilities, then what did he want him for? Was this the young male’s idea of playing around with him as he could kill him in an instant. It wouldn’t be hard. Hoseok was unarmed, in an unfamiliar environment, with Hyungwon’s bodyguards positioned at entrances around the luxurious apartment building.  
  
“It’s not that I need someone who can simply decipher information, but I need someone who is willing to assist in business arrangements and punish those who are incompetent,” Hyungwon spoke calmly.  
  
“You want someone willing to kill for you,” Hoseok stated.  
  
“If you aren’t capable, then it is best to tell me now,” Hyungwon responded. Hoseok hadn’t joined the X Clan to become a hitman. He wasn’t meant to be a soldier. But that was what Hyungwon wanted. He had no use of someone who sat on the sideline and just sorted through papers. Hyungwon wanted someone who could aid him in multiple areas.  
  
“I can do it,” Hoseok found himself saying, his throat feeling considerably drier. A smile broke onto the young man’s face, a mischievous glint winking from the within his eyes.  
  
“Perfect,” Hyungwon drawled. “I had a good feeling about you Hoseok. You’re smarter than you look.” Hoseok furrowed his brows as Hyungwon walked away, lifting a hand to his chin. Was he supposed to feel complimented or offended by that statement. “Follow me.”  
  
Rising from leather seat, Hoseok released the fabric of his pants. His palms were significantly sweaty. As if to calm and compose himself, he straightened out his clothing and brushed the top of his pants down. He was self-conscious of the sound that his shoes made against the floor as he strolled forward in the direction of the large window that reflected the city below.  
  
He slowly paused next to Hyungwon whose eyes were gazing at the city below. His face was solemn and reflected a young boy trying to fit into a man’s world. Gazing upon Hyungwon’s youthful face, he was only reminded that the boy was shy of his teenage years. He was barely an adult. Quickly, Hoseok tore his gaze away from him.  
  
“My father wants to built an empire, he says,” Hyungwon explained. “He likes control. He likes power. And I suppose money falls into that equation too.”  
  
“And what do you want?” Hoseok murmured. The young male fell silent. He dropped his head down and breathed out a quiet sigh, then adjusted his gaze on the skyscraper buildings. He rolled his shoulders back and crossed his arms over his chest in a protective manner.  
  
“You know, I’ve heard many men ask me that question,” he began. “Never before has anyone said it like how you just did.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Hoseok licked his dry lips. Hyungwon twisted on the heel of his shoe and lightly placed the knuckle of his index finger beneath Hoseok’s chin. They were close. Too close for Hoseok’s comfort. He could feel the warm, wine scented breath of the male fanning against his face. His touch was not rough, but rather like a feather grazing his skin.  
  
“With genuine curiosity,” was the answer, “As though you actually care what I want. Not pretending to show an interest in order to please me.” Hoseok felt a burst of confidence rock his body as he sharply moved his head from Hyungwon. He swayed on his feet, sliding his hands into his pockets.  
  
“You said you liked honesty,” Hoseok dismissed. “I’m going to try my best to make sure that I don’t lie to you. I gave you my loyalty; that was a promise I intend on following through.” Hyungwon wore an evident expression of surprise on his face for a few seconds before clearing his throat and looked out the window. He rocked on the back of his heels, rubbing the strands of hair against the side of his hair. Hastily, he pushed them back behind his ear.  
  
“I’m required to attend a family dinner tomorrow,” Hyungwon stated, “I had intentions on meeting up with an informant of mine.”  
  
“The informant who can uncover information on anyone?” Hoseok questioned.  
  
“That’s the one,” Hyungwon dropped his hand down by his side. “Unfortunately, as it turns out, my meetings have happened to clash. I’ll need you to meet up with him in my place,” he instructed.  
  
“What do you need to know?” There was a pause that hung over them, Hyungwon narrowing his eyes as he pondered whether or not he should say anything.  
  
“You recall the man I sent to the recruit’s accommodation?” Hoseok made a small sound from the back of his throat.  
  
“The charred head,” Hoseok said as a statement in comparison to a question, “I do. It certainly sent a powerful message.”  
  
“That man, Kang, was dealing information with someone. Regrettably Kang didn’t know his accomplice’s name. Before his untimely demise, I was able to uncover a piece of information. Whoever he was selling men out to went by the alias The Red Royal.” Hyungwon suddenly placed his hand down on Hoseok’s shoulder abruptly. “I need you to find out what he knows and then get him to find out whatever he can. I need this traitor found.” He squeezed Hoseok’s shoulder. From the gesture, Hoseok could feel the power behind the action.  
  
Hyungwon may no be physically strong, but he made up for it in his demeanour. That was enough to make most people feel uncomfortable in his presence; knowing the power he held over them even if he couldn’t physically overpower them. He didn’t need to. There were other means in which he could do that, that didn’t involve for him, himself to lay a single hand on anyone.  
  
“What’s your informant’s name?” Hoseok enquired, “What should I address him as?” A laugh erupted from Hyungwon’s lips. He sucked in a breath and slid his hand down Hoseok’s shoulder.  
  
“You don’t need to address him by anything other than his name. He isn’t that – uh – let’s just say, he's not exactly the most refined,” Hyungwon explained. “His name is Lee Minhyuk. I’ll send a car to take you around to his establishment tomorrow at six. When you arrive, ask for him at the front desk and they should be able to help you. He is rather distinguishable.” Hoseok gave a nod of his head in understanding of the information that he was given.  
  
He felt the younger male’s eyes rake over his body. He clucked his tongue in disapproval and sighed softly. Hyungwon stepped in the direction of the doorway, moving his wrist in a simple flick, indicating that he should follow.  
  
“Try and dress moderately decent tomorrow,” he ordered.  
  
“Is the establishment luxurious?” The slender male wore a playful smile that suggested that he knew some information that he wasn’t willing to share with the other boy. He paused at the door, eyeing Hoseok carefully as the older male carefully pulled on his shoes.  
  
“Some may consider it a luxury,” he responded vaguely. “I am not one of those people. But as I am sending you there, you are representing me. I’d prefer it, if you took further pride in your appearance. Of course, though, I am simply referring to your clothing. The rest is quite exceptional.”  
  
Hoseok automatically felt his skin growing warmer with the statement and briefly paused in his action of doing up his shoes. He promptly resumed the act and stood up straight. His heart thumped loudly in his ears as he bowed politely.  
  
“Thank you, sir,” he uttered, honestly unsure of how he was supposed to react to the compliment. If he could really call it that.  
  
“I’ll be seeing you soon,” Hyungwon concluded their meeting and permitted the male to leave his home. He remained at the doorway, calmly watching as the boy stumbled across the foyer towards the elevator.  
  
Once Hoseok was out of sight, he quietly ordered for the doors to be closed. The space was suddenly plunged into silence. The tall, slender man rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefingers before pinching the bridge of his nose.  
  
He shuffled quietly into the lounge room and sat down heavily in the seat. He could hear the droning echo of the clock ticking in the background. A set of feet padded the floor gently and he was forced to look up. From down the hallway was a thin man with burgundy hair. Unlike Hyungwon, his appearance was tame and he was sporting an expensive suit.  
  
“Distinguishable, am I?” he asked, his voice husky and his tone playful.  
  
“Do you disagree with me, Minhyuk?” Hyungwon countered. The male chuckled and shrugged his shoulders calmly as he slinked forward. “Isn’t that one of my suits?”  
  
“Think of it as payment for my services,” Minhyuk replied sitting himself across from the mafia heir. He crossed his legs and leaned into the back of the chair, the suit jacket stretching open across his chest. The lapels of the coat poked upwards and the dark shirt beneath looked a little loose on him. It didn’t help, that he had neglected to do the shirt up completely and flashes his prominent collarbones.  
  
“It’s not quite your size,” the heir commented, “You’ll have to see a tailor.” Minhyuk waved a hand, a grin permanently on his lips.  
  
“A small price to pay for beauty.” Minhyuk rocked bounced his folded leg and giggled gently. “So, how shall I treat your new play toy?”  
  
“He’s not my play toy,” he objected. “Just do your job; determine whether or not he is going to be an asset, or a pain in my ass.”  
  
“Are you sure you wouldn’t object to him being a _pain in your ass_?” Hyungwon’s face expression was a clear representation of how unamused he was.  
  
“Don’t you have a strip club to get to?” The burgundy haired male placed a hand over his heart as though he had just been wounded. It would’ve perhaps been believable if not for the smirk on his face.  
  
“Such impudence,” Minhyuk pouted his lower lip, “And here I thought you thoroughly enjoyed my company. Do I not impress you?”  
  
“I’m impressed that you know the word ‘impudence’,” he fired back.  
  
“I know a great deal many words if you would like to hear them.” There was no denying the flirtatious tone in Minhyuk’s voice as he leaned forward. The heir laughed and held up a finger in objection.  
  
“As much as I’m sure we would both enjoy it, you do have a work to do.” Minhyuk sighed as he slumped into the back of the chair, devoid of any grace. His hands were resting against the arms of the chair as he slid further into the seat.  
  
“Yes, yes, I know. Find out what I can before meeting with ‘whatever his name is’ –”  
  
“Lee Hoseok.”  
  
“—within nearly twenty-four hours, test whether or not he’s an asset and have a little fun with him.” At that comment, he was received with an arched eyebrow. “I’m not talking about sex, just toy around with him a little.”  
  
“I don’t care what you do,” Hyungwon informed, “I don’t want to know what you do in your leisure, just –”  
  
“‘Do my job’, I know. I got the message, darling,” Minhyuk playfully rolled his eyes. He crossed his legs, bouncing his bare foot up and down lightly. “Might I ask a question?”  
  
“You’re going to ask it anyway,” Hyungwon muttered.  
  
“Touché,” the burgundy boy nodded his head. “Why are you interested in him? It’s not like you to want to work alongside other people. I recall you once telling me that you preferred to do things alone, especially after the last guy screwed up.”  
  
“Let’s just say I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt,” Hyungwon shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, to which Minhyuk chuckled in amusement.  
  
“No, that’s not it,” he pondered, “You don’t do anything without a reason. And normally, that reason is dear old dad.” Hyungwon’s jaw twitched as he watched the older male with a cold look.  
  
“Tread carefully,” he warned. Minhyuk lifted up his hands innocently. The boy was fun to mess around with, but once he started speaking business, he became a menace. What irritated the young heir even further was the fact that he was right. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the other boy spoke the truth.  
  
Minhyuk rose from the chair, flicking his legs out gracefully as he stood. He rolled his head on his shoulders, stretching languidly. Sighing softly, he raked his long fingers through his messy hair, pushing it back from his forehead, before the strands spilled across his warm skin. His tongue darted forward and brushed against his lower lip.  
  
“It would seem I have things to do,” the male stated, “You know how to contact me if you need _anything_.”  
  
“I’ll have a car brought around to take you home.” Minhyuk bowed in respect and headed in the direction of the door without another word. Slipping on his shoes, he pulled the door open and walked out of the penthouse. He stopped in the doorway, his eyes flickering up between the men who were guarding the door. He dipped his head.  
  
“Gentlemen,” was all he said before he strutted to the elevator. It was a moment before the doors opened and the young male stepped into the contraption, turning around to stare back at the two large men. A smirk was on his lips as the guarding subordinates exchanged a look between each other, before adjusting their gaze so the burgundy man.  
  
Minhyuk lazily lifted a hand, giving them a wave as the doors of the elevator closed. The elevator was all but silent as it travelled down from the top floor, back towards the ground. The lights on the wall were illuminated, briefly as he passed each level. Slowly he folded his arms over his chest, a frown forming on his unblemished brow. He hummed, breaking the silence, as his mind began to wander off in thought.  
  
The young male found that often people mistook his loud, flirtatious nature for someone who only had one thing on their mind; sex. In fact, that wasn’t the case. If anything, intimacy was a tool that he used. His charm and being able to wrap individuals around his finger were a talent he used to his advantage. It was also one that many were aware that he had. Hyungwon was one of the rare people that noticed his diabolical-like mind and had wanted to use it. He had been flattered naturally that someone saw him as more than just a pretty face.  
  
The elevator doors pinged as they reached his destination and slid open. Dropping his arms down by his side, he walked forward, exiting the elevator. His eyes skimmed across the wide foyer, listening to the sound of shoes clicking against the floor. The roads outside were unseen behind the large doors that were purposely built to ensure that no one would be able to get inside with ease. The entire building was difficult to get into.  
  
There were plenty of defence mechanisms put in place to ensure Hyungwon’s safety. Most, Minhyuk assumed, were not because the mafia heir wanted them. The men employed were no doubt personally selected by his father. They all strictly served the ‘big boss’. Unlike Minhyuk who was no one and everyone’s man. He’d serve whoever would pay him a large sum. He’d only share information that someone had specifically asked for. Many thought he was untrustworthy, and others thought he was the only person worth believing. While he didn’t lie, he knew he wasn’t someone who could be trusted.  
  
“If it isn’t the little boss’ princess,” spoke a young voice. Minhyuk paused in his steps and turned his head so spot an ill-mannered teenager. He had seen him a few times.  
  
“Jealous, are we?” Minhyuk countered, “I’m afraid to tell you, but I think I’m a little out of your price range.” The boy scoffed as he pushed himself from the wall and stalked over to him, standing an inch away from his face.  
  
“Fucking faggot. What would I have to be jealous about?” An amused smile twitched in the corner of Minhyuk’s mouth as he placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, brushing off some unseen dust.  
  
“Perhaps you’re jealous of the fact that you have to remain indoors day in and day out, without the slightest touch from a partner,” he began, “Or maybe, you’re ashamed of hiding the fact that you, yourself wish you could have what the ‘little boss’ has.” The teenager shoved Minhyuk’s hand quickly from his shoulder, then snapped his hands forward and grabbed the front of his shirt. His face was so close, that Minhyuk could all but feel his hot breath fanning on his face. He smelt of tobacco and cheap cologne.  
  
“You better watch your mouth, I’ll punch that pretty face of yours in. Let’s see how desired you are then,” the boy spat.  
  
“That’s enough,” spoke a rough voice. The boy seemed to listen to the elder and released Minhyuk, shoving him back roughly. “Off you go, you have work to do.” Shooting Minhyuk another sharp look, he walked past him, bumping his shoulder against his own. The burgundy haired male was used to certain treatment from people and had grown a tough shell around himself. There wasn’t an insult he hadn’t heard before.  
  
Glancing up to the man, he noted there was a clouded look across his face. Although he may not say anything, Minhyuk was well aware of his judgement. It was oozing from him. At least he had the decency to keep his thoughts to himself though. It made for a less awkward conversation.  
  
“Mr Lee, the car is ready for you,” he stated. Straightening the shirt, he nodded his head silently.  
  
“Thank you, for your hospitality,” he smiled sweetly. Although his words may  have been polite, his tone was not sincere. He promptly left the company of the man and made his way outside, feeling the warm sun touching his skin. His eyes scanned the street, spying the car that was parked out the front, the driver opening the door for Minhyuk.  
  
Quietly, he made his way over to the car, nodding his head once to the driver and placed one hand on the roof of the car. In front, he saw the shape of a dark-haired man climb into a car that matched the very one that he was getting into. There was no mistaking that it was Lee Hoseok. He tutted as he shook his head to himself.  
  
“Oh dear,” he murmured quietly to himself, “What have you gotten yourself into?”  
  
“Uh…sir?” the driver spoke up. Minhyuk didn’t even look up at the male waiting by his side. The car in front of them, slowly pulled out onto the street, the indicator light blinking as he trolled onto the road and began its journey down the street.  
  
“Where is that car travelling to?” he enquired.  
  
“I am not obligated to say anything,” the driver responded. Jutting out his lower lip in a pout, he cocked his head to the side and peered up at the unusually tall man. He was of Caucasian decent. He seemed out of place with his creamy complexion and pale blue eyes.  
  
“Please? It’s in the master’s best interest. He wanted me to find out information on Lee Hoseok.” The man’s face was stern, almost hard to read. The muscles in his face twitched and his pale eyes stared in the direction the car had travelled in.  
  
“A housing department for new recruits,” he admitted, “I heard that there is talk of his relocation so that he is closer to Master Chae.”  
  
“That makes sense,” Minhyuk sighed. “I need to return to the club.” That was all he said before sliding into the back seat of the luxurious car. He rested his head onto the leather seat, feeling his body relax into the seat. It was a few seconds later before the driver had moved around the car to his own seat and began the engine.  
  
Without paying the man any further attention, he reached his hand up to the array of buttons. A divider rose, separating him from the driver, leaving him to feel completely alone in the back seat of the car. Shifting in the seat, he withdrew his phone from his pocket. He saw that he had two unread messages and promptly went to look at them.

**  
_HONEY  
  
Today 1:39 AM  
_ I located the documents you required.  
Going over and potential information.  
  
_Today 5:02 AM_  
Mr Lee, we may have a problem.**

  
Minhyuk stared at the messages he had acquired. He let out a soft breath and tapped het contact information button before hitting the call button. He lifted the device to his ear, listening to the sound of the dial tone blaring in his ear.  
  
He lost track of how long it rang before the gravelly sound of a male’s voice came through the receiver. He rested his other arm against the sill of the window, glancing out to watch the buildings pass by as the car travelled smoothly down the street.  
  
“Mr Lee,” the voice, his contact dubbed as Honey, spoke. They obviously had just woken up, simply judging from the way their words were slurred into one another. “I wasn’t expecting you to call.”  
  
“Talk to me,” he ordered. “What issue am I facing?” From the other end, the man seemed to position himself upright on whatever he was resting upon. Minhyuk didn’t blame the man for being exhausted, but he didn’t really have time to be playing around. If there was an issue he would rather resolve it sooner rather than later.  
  
“I uncovered the missing documents; they were hidden rather well. Whoever wanted to have it concealed did a good job, it was difficult. After going through it, I discovered some information that you’ll want to see for yourself. I’ve placed the paperwork in your office in the third drawer,” the sleepy man responded.  
  
“And the digitalised evidence?” Minhyuk prompted.  
  
“I erased it. No one should be able to dig it up again. You have the only copy that I am aware of. The specialised department may also have records, but there is no way for me to know whether or not they have anything.”  
  
“Good, get some rest,” the elder concluded. He pressed his lips together. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you wants happens if I find out you lied to me.”  
  
“I am well aware of the rules Mr Lee,” came the response. Minhyuk hummed and then proceeded to pull the phone away from his ear and end the call. Lowering his phone he stared down at the screen, scanning the messages, his mind reeling over the brief conversation he had, had with his own subordinate.

**_  
MINHYUK  
  
Today 11:52 AM  
_ What department were you referring to.  
  
**

While waiting for the answer, Minhyuk drummed his fingers against the window sill. A few of his dark strands fell across his forehead and his narrow eyes were trained on the surroundings that he past. It was rare that he ventured out into the city, so he was absorbing all the sites. Even though it consisted of tall towers, masses of figures walking across roads and busy stores, the mundane rituals of ignorant people were interesting to watch.  
  
They were so innocent to the world around them. Something that Minhyuk was not. His phone vibrated in his hand and he tore his gaze away. When his eyes stared at the response, he felt his body tense. The sucked in a sharp breath and his mouth felt instantly dry. It certainly was not an answer he had been expecting.  


**_MINHYUK  
  
Today 12:01 PM  
_ Are you sure?**

**  
_HONEY  
  
Today 12:02 PM               
_ Positive.  
  
**

With the word of confirmation Minhyuk turned his phone of and exhaled gently. He hung his head back and clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. His expression then contorted from one of shock and anxiousness to one of pure and utter delight. This will be interesting, he thought to himself, a humourless laugh leaving his lips.


	4. Unpleasantries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he spoke playfully. 
> 
> “Are you Lee Minhyuk?” Hoseok enquired. The boy in front of him seemed to perk up upon hearing his name. 
> 
> “That all depends darling,” he uttered in his husky voice. He leaned forward so that Hoseok could feel his breath fanning his skin. A sudden surge of goose bump crawled across his skin, tingling the back of his neck. “Why do you want to know?”
> 
> “Chae Hyungwon sent me,” Hoseok stated simply. 
> 
> “I am very much aware?” he hummed softly and snapped his head around to glance at his room full of guests. “Out,” he ordered.

Hyungwon sat uncomfortable at the oak table in one of his most refined suits. His hair was neatly swept across his forehead, a combination of both naturalism and perfectionism. He was cautious not to let his body slump forward, not rest his hands on the table. He kept his expression neutral, just as he had been taught; his emotions buried deep beneath the surface.  
  
The woman across from him appeared young, but he knew that beneath the make up that hid her imperfections, she was older than she seemed. Regardless, he hated to admit that she was attractive. At least, she would be to the typical male’s eye. A coy smile was on her red lips matching the crimson dress around her body. Her hair was pulled back, revealing her large dark eyes.  
  
“You’re awfully quiet,” the woman commented, touching the side of her jaw with one of her long nails in thought. “Something troubling you? Your father tells me he’s asked you to solve the little dilemma involving sensitive information being leaked. How’s that working for you?” As much as Hyungwon wanted to snap at the woman, he forced himself to remain calm.  
  
“It’s going well,” he answered. “I’m taking care of the matter.”  
  
“I’m sure you are,” she smirked, her tone condescending. Hyungwon bit his tongue. He wasn’t going to allow this woman to get under his skin. A false smile made its way to his lips.  
  
“I will have the issue solved soon enough. I’ve sent someone to collect the information I need. Once I have it, I will be able to abolish the problem.”  
  
“How confident you are,” she replied. “And what if your _informant_ doesn’t come through? What then?” Opening his mouth to speak, Hyungwon was suddenly silenced by the arrival of one of his father’s men. Kim, Hyungwon believed he was. It was difficult to keep track of every single person. His mind wasn’t like Minhyuk’s.  
  
“I apologise for interrupting,” he started, his voice deep, “Master Chae will not be attending tonight’s dinner.” Hyungwon withheld a groan; this wasn’t the first time this had happened. “He sends his –”  
  
“– uttermost sincerity but more pressing matters have arisen unexpectedly,” Hyungwon concluded. The very same statement had been heard on more than one occasion. Truly, he understood, but there always was something more important than meeting with his son. Other than the occasional phone call, it would seem that the young heir had nothing to do with his father.  
  
The messenger stood quietly, clasping his hands in front of himself, knitting his fingers together as he said nothing. Instead he stood patiently waiting for his order. The room was still. No one dared move. No one dared utter a word. No one cast a glance towards one another.  
  
Hyungwon’s jaw twitched in frustration and his hard gaze was focused on the edge of the table. If it was possible, he was quite certain that he would burn a hold right through the imported dining table. It didn’t matter to him if the splinters of the table were used for a fire in the winter, at least he wouldn’t be forced to yet again another dinner with his stepmother.  
  
Forcing his eyes to turn away from the edge of table, he looked up at the woman. His stepmother, unlike everyone else in the room, she was confidently flicking the remainder of the individuals. If only she would dismiss him as easily as she was, the employees.  
  
“If that is all, you may leave,” she ordered, “As for dinner, it seems that only my son and I will be dining.”  
  
“Stepson,” Hyungwon muttered incoherently under his breath.  
  
“Did you say something?” the woman turned her attention to the boy across from her. Putting on a polite smile once again, Hyungwon shook his head.  
  
“Of course not, Jiao.” Upon being referred to by her name, Jiao’s face dropped, turning into one of disdain, yet she didn’t say anything in response. Momentarily, Hyungwon felt as though he had attained a point against the distasteful woman.  
  
There was slow movement in the room as the messenger left and the other employees moved off in order to set the meal down on the table. The pair left in the room exchanged a hard gaze. Neither one said a single word until the first course was being placed down before them. The servers seemed to hate dinners like this, just as much as Hyungwon did.  
  
“I hear you recruited extra assistance,” Jiao began, lifting up her utensils in order to begin eating her meal.  
  
“And where did you find that out? One of my father’s spies perhaps?” The woman tutted before placing a piece of meat in her mouth. Her red lips were pursed together as she leaned forward, her dark eyes focused on the boy across from her.  
  
“He’s only looking out for your wellbeing,” Jiao explained, “As his only heir, I’m sure you understand –”  
  
“I understand that my father believes I need to be mollycoddled,” Hyungwon interjected. “He shouldn’t underestimate my abilities.” A short airy laugh escaped Jiao’s painted lips.  
  
“How naïve you are, my dear boy,” the woman murmured in her first language; Mandarin. Hyungwon simply narrowed his eyes, scoffing under his breath. She acted as though he didn’t understand what she was saying. Sometimes he wished he didn’t.  
  
The food tasted bland in his mouth, despite the fact that he knew it would have been prepared by a skilled collection of chiefs. He could be eating anything, even his favourite dish, yet it would still be tasteless. That was the effect his stepmother had on him.  
  
Without wanting it to occur, he could feel his skin itching beneath his skin. It was as though hundreds of bugs had made their way beneath the soft fabric of his expensive suit. He wouldn’t let Jiao notice his discomfort though. The sinister smile that ruined her pretty features caused his irritation to grow with each passing second.  
  
“Your father is undergoing an extensive background check on your new employee. That is, if he is your subordinate?” Her tone feigned innocent. Exhaling gently, Hyungwon lifted his head, taking a short moment to calm himself before answered her question.  
  
“You can inform him that, that won’t be necessary as I have already looked into his history myself. As for whether or not he is _just_ my employee, remains none of your business.” Jiao extended a hand forward and took hold of the glass of wine. She took a slow sip from it, her crimson lipstick staining the rim.  
  
“Ah yes, of course, I forgot. You have that little whore of yours,” she responded. “If your father was to find out about that, I’m sure he would be immensely unimpressed. My dear boy, refrain from ordering me around, I could very well let slip of your _preferences_. You may have gained your subordinates silence, but you can’t threaten me. You’d be wise to remember that.”  
  
It seemed so simple. He could stand up, exit the room and escape this dinner. Instead he remained seated, loathing every minute he was forced to be in the room. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t leave. Jiao knew this fact and an expression of amusement was resting on her sharp features. He was grateful for the moments of silence that would hover between the two.  
  
Many meals when he was young involved sitting in complete silence regardless of whether he was with company or not. He found the peacefulness comforting. Especially when he was in such poor company. He liked to think he was handling things well, given the circumstances.  
  
They ate through their courses of food, ranging both from traditional Korean appetisers to various foreign platters. Occasionally they would exchange a sentence or two, but the majority of the duration of their meal, they didn’t speak to one another.  
  
“Have you visited your father’s mistress recently?” Jiao’s voice suddenly broke the silence. Hyungwon’s jaw twitched and his grip tightened on his utensils.  
  
“If you’re speaking of my _mother_ , then no,” Hyungwon spoke reasonably calmly. He could almost feel ice creeping into the room as Jiao’s gaze became cold. “Now, unfortunately Jiao, I must get going. It was lovely seeing you.” It was anything but lovely. He rose to his feet, straightening out his jacket.  
  
“You haven’t even had dessert.”  
  
“I have to stay in shape somehow.” Jiao scoffed.  
  
“Shape?” she laughed, “Very well. If you must leave, who am I to stop you.” Reluctantly, out of respect, he bowed forward. He pushed in his chair and started towards the door. “Hyungwon, aren’t your forgetting something?” The slender male paused, peering over his shoulder. Jiao placed a finger against her cheek, tapping it twice.  
  
Hyungwon felt his stomach seize up painfully. Pursing his lips together, he allowed his feet to lead him over to Jiao’s side to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. His nose was filled with the intoxicating scent of her perfume.  
  
“Goodbye Jiao.” He hastily moved back, feeling Jiao grasp his thin wrist. She slid her eyes up to him.  
  
  
“Mother,” she corrected. “You may not be biologically mine, but I am still your mother.” Hyungwon frowned as he snatched his hand from her hand.  
  
“My deepest apologies,” he retorted, straightening his back. There was no one who got under his skin as much as his stepmother did. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he couldn’t kill her. At least with traitors he was able to sooth himself with the idea that they would be dead before they became a nuisance. In juxtaposition, Jiao was a constant thorn in his side. A thorn he couldn’t rid himself of.

 

* * *

 

“This is the place?” Hoseok frowned, staring at the club the driver had parked in front of. “This is where Lee Minhyuk is?” He scanned the outside of the building. It was pretty standard he thought. The neon lights reflected onto the pathway. The remainder of the structure was inky black, and he found that he couldn’t peer inside. The large double door was guarded, and Hoseok could bet any amount of money that all bases were covered.  
  
“Mr Lee Minhyuk,” the driver started, pausing to lick his lips, “is what one could call a prostitute.” Hoseok stared at the back of the older man’s head. “However, he is rather exclusive, since he is the master of the establishment and will only take on certain customers.”  
  
“How is it Master Chae Hyungwon knows…” the young male trailed off upon catching the look he was getting from the driver through the rear vision mirror. “Ah, I see,” he muttered, nodding his head. Hoseok felt incredibly warm beneath the collar of his shirt. He opened the door of the car, promptly getting out and stood on the walkway.  
  
“Sir,” Hoseok took a moment before he realised the driver was referring to him. He glanced into the car seeing that the driver was holding a card. “This will get you in; don’t lose it.” Solemnly nodding his head, the young male took the card then returned to his mission.  
  
He stared at the crowd of people gathering, then at the men who were standing at the door. Rolling his shoulder’s back, he walked up to the men pressing his lips together. There was a shout directed towards him, telling him to get to the back of the line. But Hoseok was already too far along to just stumble towards the back of the so-called line.  
  
One of the men was studying him, his upper lip curled up in scorn. He didn’t say anything that suggested he would have to move to the back so he stood his ground. He didn’t know what the card was as it was completely black aside from a gold printed marking in the centre of a star. To him, it meant nothing. Keeping it low, he held it out so that the guard would be able to see it.  
  
The man glanced down at what was in his hand before flickering his eyes to his face. There was a stagnant pause between the two before he nodded to his companion. The second male, whose head was completely shaved looked at him, folding his arms across his chest.  
  
“Business or pleasure?”  
  
“Business,” Hoseok responded, “I need to speak with Lee Minhyuk.” He slid the card into the inside of his jacket.  
  
“Follow me,” the second male informed. Hoseok hesitated momentarily before he strolled forward, entering the club behind the large, bald man. He didn’t look back over his shoulder to stare at the figures they were leaving on the street.  
  
Hoseok avoided directly staring at the dancing figures, instead averting his eyes to the back of the man’s head. The electric hum of music encompassed the room and the sweet scent of rich alcohols circled the air. The lights flashed mellow shades of purples and blues, illuminating the dancers who twisted their barely covered bodies around their partners. Hoseok felt an uncomfortable feeling growing in his stomach, as the man in front of him pushed passed the silky curtains to reveal a smoke-filled room.  
  
At first glance, Hoseok thought someone was smoking, however upon further entering the room, he realised that it was coming from a machine. Expensive leather lounges were placed against the walls with large mirrors on either side of the room. The room all but sparkled due to the apparent glitter that speckled the area. A crystal chandelier hung down from the centre of the roof over a mahogany table draped with luxurious cloths. A pair of feet was resting on the low table, their feet concealed within a pair of black, glossy Versace shoes.  
  
The male sporting the shoes was leaning into the back of one of the leather couches, his arms spread across the back. His eyes were closed, and his head tilted back. Around his thin neck, he wore a thin black choker. His burgundy dress shirt was half undone, messily tucked into the top of his pants and hanging open to expose his chest. Behind his head, a lavish jacket has been strewn over the edge of the couch. His hair nearly matched his shirt having been dyed a shade darker. In the low light, his earrings winked in the warm glow. His eyes were surrounded by dark kohl eyeliner; the inky substance smeared against part of his eyelids. When he drew back his eyelids, Hoseok felt a shudder pass through his body at the iciness reflected within his eyes.  
  
There were several other’s in the room, mostly huddled on the other couches, permitting the relaxing man to take up a seat of his own. There were tall men standing, loosely holding glasses in their hands. The low chatter died down when Hoseok felt eyes turn to him. The eyes of the deep red-brown haired boy flickered towards him. His angular face was well defined and his narrow eyes studied him intently. A grin tilted up into the corners of his mouth and slowly he dragged his feet from the centre table, his actions mimicking that of a feline. He slinked towards Hoseok, his footsteps light on the ground.  
  
He felt the male’s cool fingers crawl beneath his chin and grip his jaw. No words were uttered as the young man inspected Hoseok, his gaze shifting across his body, the smile on his lips becoming more unnerving with each passing second. Hoseok’s mouth felt dry as he looked the man in the face but found that the burgundy haired boy wouldn’t meet his gaze.  
  
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he spoke playfully.  
  
“Are you Lee Minhyuk?” Hoseok enquired. The boy in front of him seemed to perk up upon hearing his name.  
  
“That all depends darling,” he uttered in his husky voice. He leaned forward so that Hoseok could feel his breath fanning his skin. A sudden surge of goose bump crawled across his skin, tingling the back of his neck. “Why do you want to know?”  
  
“Chae Hyungwon sent me,” Hoseok stated simply.  
  
“I am very much aware?” he hummed softly and snapped his head around to glance at his room full of guests. “Out,” he ordered. In comparison to his husky, flirting tone, it was now harsh and firm; somewhat gravelly. His companions each without complaint rose to their feet before exiting. Minhyuk waited until they had left before he stepped back from Hoseok and outstretched his arm, gesturing to the couch he, himself, had previously been resting on. “Sit down.”  
  
Cautiously Hoseok inched further inside the area, careful not to step on any of the objects that were scattered against the floor. He sat down on the edge of the couch, watching as Minhyuk pulled the curtains over, sealing them off from the happenings that were occurring just on the other side. Although it was no wall, the thick curtain seemed to block out a substantial amount of noise. Hoseok placed his hands on his knees, grasping the cloth of his pants tightly in his hands nervously. He didn’t like being within a room with someone who didn’t know well and could potentially be dangerous.  
  
Minhyuk suddenly cleared his throat and raked his slender fingers through his dyed hair. He pivoted on his shoes and carefully stepped over in Hoseok’s direction, untucking his shirt as he did so. He slid his hands into his pockets and stared down at the seated male. Now that he was seated, Hoseok couldn’t help but be aware of the aura that Minhyuk was letting off. It was true that he knew that he was aware that he was in charge but he didn’t seem to act like it. A mischievous child like grin was on his lips and he was sloppy. Not messy per say, but rather he appeared as though he had no regard for keeping the room in immaculate condition.  
  
“The young master rarely requests anything from me,” Minhyuk pondered out loud. “It must be something important.” He strolled forward calmly and pushed his hand against Hoseok’s chest, forcing him back against the couch. “Unless of course he is sending you to me.” He giggled, crawling on top of Hoseok, straddling his waist. “In which case I would very appreciative.” Hoseok felt his heart rise his throat as the boy’s dainty hands found their way to the top button of his shirt.  
  
“Maser Chae was wanting information,” Hoseok murmured. His chest felt tight as his heart beating rapidly within his body, pumping blood loudly in his ears. Minhyuk tilted his head to the side, wetting his bottom lip.  
  
“Is that so?” Minhyuk mused, “And he didn’t decide to visit me himself. _Humph_. I’m quite offended.”  
  
“He’s a busy man,” Hoseok managed to say. Minhyuk lightly brushed his fingers up Hoseok’s neck towards his hair, pushing it back from his forehead.  
  
“Of course,” Minhyuk whispered, “What with his business meetings and all. Excuse me for being upset but you must understand, Master Chae wants something from me and he sends some stranger to find out for him instead. I don’t know you,” Hoseok felt Minhyuk’s hand around his throat, yet the playful expression still was visible. It was as though, he thought this whole scenario was a game. He quickly concluded that he wasn’t completely sane. If he was completely honest, he questioned his own sanity at times, not just the people he associated himself with.  
  
“I’m Lee Hoseok,” he informed. He shivered as the young male traced his thumb lightly against his skin. “I’ve recently began directly serving Master Chae.” Minhyuk slid his hand down Hoseok’s neck, his eyes dropping to his chest in which he had successfully managed to expose his clavicles.  
  
“I can feel your heartbeat rising Lee Hoseok,” Minhyuk snickered, “Do I make you nervous?” He didn’t give Hoseok any time to answer him before he removed himself from his lap and lay across the lounge, his feet dangling over the arm and his head resting in the other male’s lap. “It’s both a blessing and a curse. Relax Hoseok, I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to.” His small frame shook with laughter as he sent the muscular male a wink. “What is it Master Chae Hyungwon wants to know.” The young male settled himself down comfortably, his eyes closed and a soft sigh passing his lips.  
  
Hoseok didn’t know what to do with his hands. With Minhyuk rested his head on him, he didn’t know whether to put his hands next to him or outstretch them across the back of the seat as Minhyuk had done when he walked in. He awkwardly held them off the couch, his eyes darting across the room.  
  
“He’s looking for someone; I need a name,” Hoseok replied.  
  
“He thought I may know who he needed to _murder_ ,” Minhyuk corrected. The lightness of the boy’s tone made Hoseok’s skin crawl. “What do you know about this person?” Not only from his conversation with Hyungwon in his penthouse, but Hoseok had attained further information when he was picked up. It seemed as though, he had some material passed onto him by the man that drove him to the club.  
  
“He’s a gambler –”  
  
“Not really my forte,” Minhyuk interjected.  
  
“He’s apparently built himself up a bit of a reputation at The Connect. People call him the Red Royal. But no one can visibly identify him.”  
  
“The Red Royal, you say,” Minhyuk murmured, the corner of his mouth twitching, “Can’t say I’ve heard of him.”  
  
“Master Chae told me you were good with names. Valuable perhaps in regards to recognising people. Useful in finding out other’s secrets and getting a hold of blackmail,” Hoseok countered. “I’m sure you’ve heard something.” His voice was firm. Hoseok knew that Minhyuk was keeping something from him. And in keeping something from Hoseok, he was indirectly concealing information from Hyungwon.  
  
“In a place like this, you tend to hear a lot of things,” Minhyuk shrugged his shoulders, “It all depends on how much you’re willing to pay to get it.” Hoseok scoffed. He stood up, brushing the man to the side. The burgundy haired male’s eyes snapped open and locked on the back of Hoseok’s head as he fell to the floor. His eyes were narrowed and his hands pressed against the side of the couch. “Hey –”  
  
“I’m not here to make negotiations, however I must inform you Lee Minhyuk, if you don’t tell me what you know, I have been instructed to take further actions to ensure that I successfully deliver the information to Master Chae,” Hoseok lied. His throat was tightening as he struggled to get out the words. He could almost feel Minhyuk smirking behind him. It made him wonder if the boy knew that he was bluffing. He could hear the sound of the leather couch squelching beneath Minhyuk’s body as he moved.  
  
“Threatening me, are we?” Minhyuk’s husky voice was just over his shoulder, “I like it. I like it when a man shows his power; when he demands something from me,” he giggled. For some reason, Hoseok didn’t get the impression that he was just talking about orders in general. “It’s a good look on you Hoseok. Sexy even. All you need to do is show me that power.” Minhyuk dragged one of his fingers across Hoseok’s shoulder blades, over his arm and onto his chest as he circled him so that he was in front. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against Hoseok’s. The muscular male couldn’t help but suck in a breath, causing him to breathe in the sweet scent of perfume that Minhyuk was wearing. “Alright, I’ll let you in on what I know.”  
  
Minhyuk took a step back and took a made his way towards the table where a few lingering glasses were set. He lifted one up and without hesitation, took hold of a dark bottle. He watched as he poured the deep purple liquid into the glass, filling it three quarters of the way. He cast his gaze to the bottle, shaking it once before bringing it to his lips to down the remaining contents. Once satisfied that the bottle was empty, he dropped it down onto the clothed table. Minhyuk pivoted on his foot and stared at Hoseok.  
  
“I don’t know who the Red Royal is per say, however it shouldn’t take me too long to find out his real name,” Minhyuk began. “What I do know about him is that he works for Min. I don’t know if you know of Min, but I’ll keep it short. Min has shared ownership of The Connect with…I forget his name. Anyways, that’s not important, what is, is that Min has a collective group of subordinate who have been handpicked by himself.”  
  
“And what exactly do these men do?” Hoseok probed.  
  
“Whatever Min tells them to do,” the boy replied, “Min’s got a nasty temper and if you piss him off, you’re guaranteed to end up six feet under. They’re collectors of sorts. If you have a debt or owe someone money, or even your life, they’re the ones that carry it out for him.”  
  
“They’re hitmen?”  
  
“Of a sort,” Minhyuk said, taking a swing of his wine glass. He moaned in satisfaction, licking his lips for the beads of alcohol. “They’re closer to spies. They blend into the crowds, they find out information and then they kill you. Hitmen are just hired to kill, slight difference you see.”  
  
“And how does the Red Royal fit into this exactly?” Hoseok frowned.  
  
“The Red Royal, like I said is one of Min’s subordinates. You mentioned he’s a gambler, well, all of them play in the casino,” Minhyuk continued. “It’s easy money and those who don’t follow through after losing…”  
  
“…they end up dead,” Hoseok concluded.  
  
“Exactly,” Minhyuk smirked, “The Connect is just a temple of money. People go in expecting to make a fortune, but they come out, tens of thousands, millions, or even billions in debt. It’s like falling into a spider’s web. Once you’re caught, you can’t escape. You can try, but the spider will find you and it will devour you until you are nothing – _nothing_ – but an empty, bloodless corpse.” As Minhyuk enunciated each word, his took short but harsh steps in Hoseok’s direction. “And the worst part? Like a spider, you can’t see it initially, you don’t even know it’s there until it’s too late. I know very few of Min’s associates; they’re good at keeping their identities hidden. They’re notorious players but not one’s that you hope to lose to. That’s how they earn their names. Much like the Red Royal.”  
  
Hosoek found that he couldn’t move his eyes from Minhyuk’s gaze. The boy in front of him slowly drew his glass to his lips and took a sip. The grape scented drink was evidentially strong and didn’t blend well with the perfume Minhyuk wore. It was a sickening scent that stirred Hoseok’s stomach painfully.  
  
“The Red Royal, to my knowledge, is one of Min’s latest recruits. Within the few months he’s been working for him, he’s already built up quite a status. He’s good. He’s _deadly_. Min was fortunate in getting his hands on him,” Minhyuk informed. “For that reason, I don’t know much about him personally. That being said, it’s hard to find out about anything that officially goes on inside The Connect.”  
  
“Can you do it though?” Hoseok queried.  
  
“Of course, I can,” Minhyuk snorted, “Min might not talk much, but I can get the information that you need out of him. He happens to be a regular here,” he added in a matter of fact tone of voice. “I’ll contact Master Chae when I find anything else out. Or you are quite welcome to come back.” Hoseok nodded his head somberly.  
  
“I’ll leave you to…” the male trailed off, not really wanting to finish the sentence. The burgundy haired male seemed to notice his discomfort and chuckled quietly.  
  
“Call me what you will,” Minhyuk started, “I’ve heard it all before; slut, whore, charlatan. The list could go on. I prefer conman. Sounds much more…pleasant wouldn’t you say?” The male looked at the pretty boy adorned in expensive fabric.  
  
“Do you really think that lowly of me, Mr Lee?” Hoseok frowned. “I’m not here to insult you by any means. What you do is your business, I’m just here to make sure that Master Chae Hyungwon acquires the results he wants.”  
  
“Ugh, you sound just like him. What a pair you will make,” Minhyuk rolled his eyes playfully. “I best let you leave since I have work to do. Please, feel free to indulge yourself. I have many affine talents in here. First session is on the house.”  
  
“I will have to politely decline.” Minhyuk pushed passed the curtain that separated them from the rest of the individuals. His fingers lightly played with the edge of the curtain and he cast a cool look over his shoulder.  
  
“Are you sure? I’m sure you could find something that corresponds with your preferences.” As Hoseok looked at the man, he couldn’t help but feel as though there was an ulterior motive. It was strange, he trusted Hyungwon more than he would trust this man. There was something about him, that he didn’t like.  
  
Perhaps it was the way his eyes seemed to follow his every move. Or the devious grin that framed his face like a demon that wanted to feast upon his very soul. It could possibly even be the very place he was standing in. He was very much out of his depth. It was hard to imagine Chae Hyungwon even stepping foot inside the establishment.  
  
“As I said before, I must decline,” he repeated firmly. Minhyuk held his hands up innocently, shrugging his shoulders.  
  
“Very well,” the other male sighed softly. Hoseok bowed politely to the male before he excused himself and hurried out of the room. Minhyuk released the curtain and allowed it to fall over the crowd. Placing his fingers against his temples he rubbed them slowly with a gentle groan.  
  
Without grace he slumped down onto the couch, tilting his head back. He rested his arm across his eyes, closing them. He didn’t even hear the footsteps of one of his employees approach him. He only hummed softly in response to someone clearing their throat in order to catch his attention.  
  
“Excuse me sir?” the figure started.  
  
“What is it?” he mumbled.  
  
“Was that –”  
  
“Refrain from blurting out sensitive information in a place like this, Honey,” Minhyuk snapped, dropping his arm from his eyes to look at the small, timid boy in front of him. The tight black pants hugged his legs, and his chest was all but bare aside from a black waistcoat with golden stitching that wasn’t fastened up. His hair was swept up from his forehead, dyed blond, which was the reason behind his name. His small eyes were smudged with dark kohl and his lips were painted a soft pink.  
  
“I’m sorry,” the boy, Honey, spoke up. “It won’t happen again.”  
  
“Make sure it doesn’t, I wouldn’t want to have to replace you so soon.” The smaller boy quickly bowed down at almost a full ninety degrees. “I’ll speak with you later. I need to rest.” He waved the male off, despite the fact that he wasn’t looking up to witness the flick of his wrist. Understanding the message however, he backed off and scampered out of the room.  
  
Once again, he was isolated in the room. He suddenly felt uncomfortable. Even though he could hear the pounding music and knew there were others just on the other side of the curtain, he felt alone. It was an odd sensation that settled into the depths of his chest. Scanning the room of expensive ornaments, he scoffed quietly.  
  
Swinging his legs onto the couch, he wriggled against the cushioned couch and let out a soft breath as he stared at the roof. It would perhaps look good with a canopy and fairy lights, he thought as he closed his eyes. He wouldn’t sleep in a place like this. But at least resting his eyes a moment would clear his mind. He drummed his fingers against his stomach, drawing his attention to the rhythm of the beating in order to make sure that he said awake. Regardless, that it was his establishment, it didn’t mean that it was safe by any means. Not even for him.

 

* * *

 

In the early hours of the next morning, Hoseok was awoken by the piercing sound of his phone blaring in the small room he was residing in. It was almost like a prison cell he thought. There was no window, the walls were constructed of brick and the space was nearly bare. There was a shelving unit and a bed that took up the space of the compacted room. Reaching near his head he pulled his phone to his ear, pressing the answer button. 

  
“Lee Hoseok speaking,” he spoke into the receiver, his voice weary.  
  
“ _Did I wake you?_ ” came the familiar sound of Hyungwon’s voice on the other end. Swiftly, eyes snapping open, Hoseok sat up. He briefly pulled the phone away from his ear, staring down at the caller ID, noticing that it came up with a series of unfamiliar numbers. Slowly placing the phone back to his ear, he cleared his throat.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Hoseok didn’t really know what else he was supposed to say. How did he get his number? It was frightening how he was able to acquire knowledge so fast.  
  
“ _On the contrary, I’m the one who should be apologising._ ” There was a gentle laugh that filled Hoseok’s ears. “ _However, we are pressed for time. How did the meeting with Minhyuk go?_ ”  
  
“It was interesting –”  
  
“ _I would assume so._ ”  
  
“– but he unfortunately wasn’t able to release much information at this stage. I believe he has heard of the Red Royal as he believes that he is one of Min’s elusive employees.”  
  
“ _Anything else?_ ” Hyungwon prompted.  
  
“Lee Minhyuk stated he would be able to attain further information after meeting with Min,” Hoseok swallowed heavily. “Uh…he revealed that he was a regular at the establishment.”  
  
“ _Brothel,_ ” Hyungwon interjected, “ _The club is essentially a brothel._ ” Hoseok wanted to respond back with some witty statement but he held his tongue.  
  
“Well, Minhyuk said he’d be in contact as soon as he found anything else out.”  
  
“ _Good work,_ ” Hyungwon hummed, “ _I want you to get dressed and meet me at Déjà Brew at seven.”_ A coffee house, Hoseok thought to himself, why would he want to meet him there. He nodded his head as though the heir could see his movements. “ _Hoseok, I need verbal confirmation._ ”  
  
“Oh! Yes, of course. I will be there.”  
  
“ _Wear something dark in colour._ ” The line abruptly went dead, a sharp ‘beep’ indicating the end of the conversation. Exhaling softly, Hoseok placed the phone down by his side and pushed himself up from the creaking bed. It wasn’t that difficult to pick out something dark, considering all his clothes were black, aside from one white dress shirt.  
  
Checking the time quickly, he saw that he only had an hour to get ready and walk the few blocks to meet with the mafia heir. He wasted no time in preparing himself for the meeting, paying close attention in making himself presentable. He settled for a faux leather jacket and black pants. Hopefully the jacket would conceal the cheapness of his shirt, which he opted for tucking into the top of his pants in order to make sure the tatted hem was concealed.  
  
Half an hour had passed before he found himself walking along the side of the road, occasionally looking down at the map application on his phone to ensure that he was going in the right direction. His eyes still felt heavy and his body was begging him to rest a little while longer. Just thinking about the bed made him weary. He hadn’t been able to get a decent sleep on the mattress due to the fact that the springs inside felt as though they were puncturing his body. He wasn’t going to complain thought; at least he wasn’t sleeping on the floor.  
  
Déjà Brew had a narrow entrance and visibly already littered with customers. Pocketing his phone, he pushed open the door of the café, scanning the area. He could feel the warm air pressing against his cheeks, and the pleasant aroma of coffee beans circling through the air. God, he needed caffeine. There was low music playing as the low hum of chattered filling the remaining silence. His eyes flickered from one side to the other, spying the matching furnishing.  
  
It took him a second sweep of the room to find Hyungwon. He had expected the young man to be sporting a black suit. Perhaps even something to cover his face from the publics eye. Instead, he was loosely holding a paper in his hand, boring a double breasted, beige trench coat. It looked like cashmere, Hoseok thought. He scoffed inwardly to himself; it was rather pathetic he knew so much about fashion when he couldn’t afford anything as such himself.  
  
Strolling over towards Hyungwon, he gently pulled out the chair and took a seat across from him. He truly wasn’t trying to conceal his face. His dark hair was combed back from his face neatly and he held the paper a few inches above the table. No mask, no hood, no scarf, no shades. Suddenly, Hyungwon placed the open paper down and reached into the inside of his coat, drawing out a shiny card and slid it across the table.  
  
“Get me an iced caramel macchiato, to go, and whatever you want. It’s on me,” he said. Hoseok frowned as he took the debit card, looking at the male who returned to his paper.  
  
“I’m fine,” Hoseok responded, rising to his feet.  
  
“We have a lot to get through today, I need you to be sharp,” Hyungwon countered, “Get yourself a coffee, breakfast, whatever.” He tilted his head upwards, looking him in the eye. “I’m not exactly scrapping the barrel for cash.” Hoseok could only imagine how much money was on the card he was currently holding. Bowing awkwardly, he stepped in the direction of the line that was forming in front of the counter. All the while, he could feel Hyungwon’s eyes on him. Was this a test? It would be a strange one if it was.  
  
From his seat by the mocha feature wall, Hyungwon wore a loose smile as he watched Hoseok progress from the back of the line towards the front. He hummed gently to himself and peered down at the paper he was currently holding in his hands. **_Body Discovered in the Han River_**. He tutted quietly to himself as he read over the article.  
  
“Incompetent,” he muttered to himself. His father’s men couldn’t even dispose a body properly. There of course was nothing explicitly graphic in the report, but he knew that it was Kang. He closed the paper and folded it over, then set it carefully down on the table just as Hoseok was returning. He held out the card for Hyungwon to take. The male gently took it back and slid it inside his coat. The coat itself, hid his slender frame.  
  
Once seated, Hyungwon knitted his fingers together and placed his entwined hands on the table. He licked his lower lip, briefly looking around the café silently.  
  
“Why did you choose this place?” Hoseok enquired.  
  
“The coffee is good,” Hyungwon answered, “Besides, I believe it is imperative to continuously change meeting locations. It ensures that the authorities can’t predict one’s movements.”  
  
“But there are so many private places you could have held this meeting,” Hoseok began. “You’re not even hiding yourself from the public; what would you do if someone recognised you?” Slowly Hyungwon slid his eyes towards him.  
  
“Concerned for my safety, are we?” he retorted, “I don’t hide myself because that makes me seem suspicious. These people here don’t know who I am, the police are inept and I always make sure I am carrying.”  
  
“Carrying…” Hoseok trailed off, quickly realising what he meant. Was that why he was wearing a large coat? Because he was hiding weapons?  
  
“Now, like I said earlier, we are pressed for time,” Hyungwon sighed, “We some business to deal with today. We have a few consultations we must attend. I’ll get to see just how serious you are about working for me.”  
  
“Are you expecting things to go south?”  
  
“There’s always someone who thinks they’re above humanity.”  The two fell silent as a woman, carrying a plastic cup with a straw and a Styrofoam cup with a lid came up to their table. Her uniform was plain and predominantly covered by the stained apron that was bound around her waist.  
  
“One iced caramel macchiato and one ristretto,” she smiled, setting down the two drinks in front of the two males. Politely Hyungwon smiled, thanking her with a small nod of the head. He waited until she had retreated before curling his fingers around the cheap cup and brought the straw to his lips, sipping it almost innocently.  
  
“How capable are you with a knife?” he questioned. Hoseok made a choking noise as he drank his coffee. That wasn’t exactly the type of question someone should spring upon someone. As he looked up, he looked at Hyungwon’s face and how the straw was lightly resting against his plump lower lip.  
  
“I’m decent. Why do you ask?” Hoseok felt like he already knew the answer to that question.  
  
“Because, if things do ‘go south’ like I predict it will, I need to confirm that you can kill someone.” And there it was. Slowly taking another sip of his ristretto, the warm liquid felt cold and oddly bitter in his mouth. He would murder someone that day. Perhaps in a few hours. All to ensure his own safety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I was going to publish this chapter on Jooheon's birthday, however I will be on set shooting a short film for one of my classes and the hours in which we are filming make it difficult for me to get online. So I figured I'd just post this a day earlier. Or two days depending on time. Anyways I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I will try and get around to this more often but no promises. Thanks for reading.


	5. Game of Survival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ah,” he mused, “I should have guessed they’d send someone.” His words sounded calm, but his posture was ridged. The boy walked towards Hoseok discarding the plastic bag on the ground. “What are you going to do? Huh?” He pushed his hands against Hoseok’s chest, grabbing hold of his collar. What appeared to be a combination of dirt and paint coated his fingers and clung beneath his nails. 
> 
> Hoseok narrowed his eyes, jerking his hands forward to shove the boy’s arms from him. The teenager sauntered back, a hollow laugh erupting from the back of his throat. 
> 
> “Ooh tough guy,” he taunted, “What fucker sent you then? Kwon? You can tell him to shove it up his ass because it wasn’t my fault.” His eyes were wild, intensely focused on Hoseok. It felt like he was trying to burn holes into his body. 
> 
> “Kwon didn’t send me,” Hoseok spoke up, “Chae did.”

_Drip. Drip. Drip.  
_  
Hoseok’s eyes were transfixed on the blood that fell onto the floor of the meeting room. Beads of blood, slashing across the floor. He stood by the door, his eyes shifting upwards to the dark barrel of the gun held between Hyungwon’s hands.  
  
The body of the stranger was limp. The seat next to the body held a rather pale woman, whose lower lip quivered as she gazed at the lifeless body. Her hands were fists on the oak table. Her milky, chocolate eyes slid up towards the slender man comfortably sitting across from her.  
  
The room was silent. No one seemed to inhale or exhale a breath. Blinds were pulled closed and only the cool glow of the overhead light illuminated the room. The silver light rolled across the faces of those present. Nothing could be heard just outside the room. Nor should there. The hallway was supposed to be empty.  
  
Hyungwon lowered the gun in hand, his wrist lolling downwards. His cashmere coat was hanging across the back of the chair. Without the beige coat, he was completely adorned in black. A circular necked shirt was tucked into the top of his matching pants. Just as Hoseok had suspected, a cross-harness gun holster had been fitted to hide beneath his clothing. Even the leather straps seemed to blend into his shirt.  
  
The now dead man was lying on the floor, his red face cocked to the side, permitting his crimson blood to dribble from his face onto the floor. Where his eye had been was a dark wound, revealing where the bullet had been buried into his skull.  
  
In Hoseok’s sweating hands, he gripped a phone, perhaps a little too tightly. It wasn’t the first time he had seen a dead body, but it was the first time someone had been outrightly murdered in front of him. He expected his heart to race, but instead, he was left frozen. He wasn’t surprised, maybe because he had been anticipating it.  
  
“Let’s try that again,” Hyungwon began, “Where is that psychopath, you call your son?”  
  
“Sociopath,” the woman swallowed. Hyungwon’s eyes were quick to lock with the wife of the deceased. “I don’t know,” she whispered. The mafia heir let out a breath and hung his head back against his chair. “It’s true; he disappeared from home a few days ago.”  
  
“Do you know what I think?” Hyungwon sighed gently, his tone remaining neutral. There was something about his odd calamity which unnerved Hoseok. The young male didn’t raise his voice and there wasn’t an ounce of anger detected in his voice. He was too composure for someone who had just murdered a man. “I think you do know where your son is,” he continued. “I think you know exactly where he would go if he felt his life was threatened.”  
  
“Assuming I knew, why would I tell you? He’s my son,” she retorted, “If you kill me, wouldn’t you –”  
  
The phone in Hoseok’s hands vibrated, to which he glanced down at the screen. Peering up he looked at Hyungwon and cleared his throat. A thin smile twitched in the corner of his mouth.  
  
“Hold that thought, Ms Bang,” he interrupted. “Proceed Hoseok.” Tapping on the phone to open the message, he stared down at the screen. It was to avoid looking at anyone in the room.  
  
“Surveillance cameras have spotted him exiting a convenience store. There are abandoned buildings in the area where he may be hiding,” he informed. Hyungwon rose from his position and slid his gun into its holster. Strolling over to Hoseok, his fingers brushed against his own as he tilted the phone for his eyes to see. His dark gaze darted across the location and image that had been sent through, to which he nodded his head.  
  
“It would seem that our business here is finished,” Hyungwon announced, turning his head to look over his shoulder. “I’d like to thank you for your time, Ms Bang,” he began walking back to the seat, taking hold of his coat. He nonchalantly drew it over his shoulders, however, left it unfastened. “It was unfortunate that we couldn’t come to a quicker understanding.”  
  
Hyungwon walked around the side of the table, standing by Ms Bang’s chair, his eyes flicking down to the corpse lying on the ground. Shakily the woman glanced up at the young heir. He could already feel her eyes narrowed on him, the iciness held within them creeping across his skin. It wasn’t something he wasn’t used to. There were many people he knew who held utter hatred for him; not just the police.  
  
“I’ll meet you in the car.” Hyungwon said to Hoseok, “I need to finish up here.” Hoseok’s knees felt stiff from standing in the same position for so long. Tucking the phone away, he made the mistake of making eye contact with Ms Bang. Her eyes were wide and her face was paling. There was a tremor that shook her body. Hoseok could feel his own heart racing as she silently asked for help. And yet, Hoseok left.  
  
He exited the room, gently closing the door behind him without looking back. Hoseok stood frozen for a moment then gradually forced himself to walk forward. The hallway appeared long and dark. He concentrated on his steps, stopping in front of the elevator doors and waited for it to arrive. Walking inside, he pivoted on the ball of his shoe, gazing down the empty hall where no witnesses stood to hear the sound of Ms Bang scream.  
  
The elevator doors closed.  
  
Hoseok stood in the centre, fingers moving to rub the back of his neck. Any sane person, he thought, would have run for help or assist in whatever way they could. But he was leaving. He had turned his back on someone; someone he didn’t know. A humourless laugh came tumbled from his lips.  
  
“Guess I’m just as guilty,” he murmured in the emptiness. Dropping his hand down by his side, he slid them into his pockets, leaving the elevator when he reached the basement floor.  
  
A light in the underground carpark was blinking in the darkness. The car he and Hyungwon had arrived in was still running, the driver obviously leaving it on in case they needed a quick getaway. Hoseok stopped, scanning the parking lot, his attention drawn briefly to the security cameras hooked up.  
  
Humming quietly to himself, he strolled down the grey ground to the car. He pulled the door open and slid into the back, closing it behind him. The driver peered in the rear-view mirror back at the young male.  
  
“He’ll be down momentarily,” Hoseok informed.  
  
“I am away of the young master’s system,” the driver replied, “When Master Chae’s son is personally dealing with something by himself, he likes to be a little ‘dramatic’.”  
  
“Dramatic? How so?” Hoseok watched as the older male’s face twitched upwards.  
  
“All I mean is, he’s got to cover up the crime scene if he’s done away with someone.” Murdered someone, Hoseok corrected internally. “When the police stick their nose in it, they’ll pass it off as a crime of passion. One of them kills the other in an argument, then commits suicide after they realise what they have done.”  
  
“Why wouldn’t he admit to it? Use it as a warning?”  
  
“Because he’s not issuing a warning,” the man clarified, “He’s covering his tracks.” Hoseok’s eyes flickered out the tinted window. He placed his elbow on the sill, propping his chin on top of his closed fist.  
  
“The authorities have failed to notice Chae Hyungwon’s involvement in more crimes than they would have predicted if that was the case,” he mused.  
  
“The police only see what the X Clan wants them to see.”  
  
“It is rather intriguing,” Hoseok supposed. The driver glanced in the rear-view mirror. Shaking his head and muttering ‘maniac’ beneath his breath, the driver looked away. Hoseok’s gaze, however, had locked on the back of the older man’s head.  
  
He wasn’t a maniac. He wasn’t crazy. He was merely fascinated. Was that really all it took to fall into that category? He curled his fingers, his jaw twitching. Let it go, he warned himself. Gradually, he straightened his hand and rested his palm flat against the sill.  
  
Five minutes had passed before Hyungwon was joining them in the car. A black mask covered his face and his dark hair fell across his forehead. Even though Hoseok couldn’t visibly see any, the metallic scent of blood was lingering in the air. It didn’t take a genius to know that Ms Bang would now be dead.  
  
Once informing their chauffeur where they were headed, he removed the mask from his face. Hoseok found himself staring at the younger’s side profile. His eyes were hungry and his plush lips were softly pressed together. Everything about his face reflected delicateness, aside from his obsidian eyes. And yet, there was something beautiful about it.  
  
“Hoseok,” Hyungwon suddenly drew him from his daze. He suddenly became aware of the soft rumble of the car.  
  
“Mh?” he hummed, “Yes, Master Chae.”  
  
“I believe I have had enough fun for this morning,” he stated, “I think I’m going to get an early lunch. I want you to take care of that, what did Ms Bang call her son…”  
  
“A sociopath?”  
  
“Yes, deal with him,” Hyungwon finished. “And bring me a souvenir so that I know that the job is done.” Hoseok awkwardly bowed his head down, biting down on his lip. He could feel the skin splitting and taste the beads of blood that subsequently spilled from the minor wound.  
  
“Was there anything in particular that –”  
  
“His tongue,” Hyungwon interjected casually. Hoseok was beginning to feel sick even thinking about having to touch his targets tongue, let alone bring it to Hyungwon. To his surprise though, this seemed to be something that was quite normal for the heir to discuss.  
  
“I…” Hoseok trailed off as he watched Hyungwon tug off the leather gloves he wore over his slender hands. The heir held them out to him.  
  
“Can I count on you?” he asked, his smouldering eyes only compelling Hoseok to reach out and take hold of the gloves. From the corner of his gaze, he could see the corners of the heir’s lips turn upwards pleased. “They’re to make sure you don’t leave behind any fingerprints at the scene. As well as keep your hands clean.”  
  
I was strange pulling on the gloves Hyungwon had been wearing only moments before. He could still feel the warmth of his skin lingering on the inside. He didn’t look up as he tugged the black gloves over his hands, concealing the skin from sight. However, he could still feel the watchful gaze of Hyungwon watching him.  
  
“Here, take this.” When Hoseok looked back he noticed that Hyungwon was holding out a switchblade. He hesitated before taking the blade into his hand. It was reasonably light, almost weightless. That could be because his mind was drifting elsewhere though, he thought.  
  
“Wouldn’t it be more effective to use a gun?” he enquired. Laughter erupted from Hyungwon’s lips. It was an oddly pleasant sound to Hoseok’s ears, but he didn’t allow himself to get caught up in the moment.  
  
“That may be true,” he nodded his head, “However a bullet to the head is too quick. Not just for this task, but it’s also for my own safety.”  
  
“You’d think I would try to kill you?” Hoseok exclaimed.  
  
“I don’t know, you tell me,” the younger boy challenged. He didn’t trust him. That was something that Hoseok could understand given the society they were intergraded within. It was difficult to place your trust in anyone. Much less someone you barely knew.  
  
“I understand where you are coming from,” Hoseok uttered gently. “I assume it can be lonely at times. Is there anyone that you trust? Your father? Minhyuk?”  
  
“Why do you care?” Hyungwon rested into the back of his seat. “To answer your question though, no. I don’t trust either of them.” Hoseok blinked in surprise. “For different reasons naturally. I grew up with my father; he knows how to twist words to get what he wants. And Minhyuk sells information for the right price. I know how he works. Everything is for his own benefit.”  
  
“But would he really release any unwanted information?” Hoseok queried.  
  
“You’re asking if he fears facing my wrath? Then no,” Hyungwon smacked his lips together. “He enjoys it; he’s a little strange in that manner.” Hoseok thought Minhyuk was odd in general but he thought it best not to voice his opinion. Instead, he opted for drawing his eyes away from the mafia heir.  
  
The car pulled up outside a convenience store; the very one Hoseok had received a message about. He could already feel his heart hammering against his chest heavily. Tucking the switchblade into his pocket, Hoseok swallowed.  
  
“You know what he looks like?” Hoseok couldn’t muster up any words, instead nodding his head. “Alright, I’ll possibly see you shortly. Meet me in the café down the end of the street when you’re finished. Dispose of the body in one of the silos,” he added offhandedly. Hoseok slid out of the car, gently closing the door behind.  
  
Inside the vehicle, the driver glanced in the rear-view mirror at Hyungwon. His lips were pursed together.  
  
“You seem to have a lot of trust in him, young master,” he commented.  
  
“On the contrary, I am merely testing him,” he replied simply. “Continue to the end of the street.”  
  
“Right away sir.” The next second, the car was swerving onto the main road, travelling down the block towards Hyungwon’s desired location. It wasn’t a long drive, only a couple of metres that Hyungwon couldn’t be bothered walking.  
  
He didn’t say anything to his chauffeur when he got out of the car. He felt the warmth of the sun touch his skin. Figures of couples and businessmen surrounded the streets. In the distance, he could hear the speeding cars powering down the roads and the clicking of pedestrian signs. To the ordinary eye, it was a peaceful day.  
  
Civilians were just oblivious to what occurred right under their nose. Or, if they were aware, they chose to ignore it and go about their daily business.  
  
Hyungwon felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, he drew it out of his pocket, pressing the answer button as he held it to his ear. He felt out a soft sigh.  
  
“You better have a good reason for calling,” he spoke into the receiver, not even bothering to check the caller ID. There weren’t many people that had his direct number.    
  
“ _That wasn’t the greeting I was expecting_ ,” came a familiar voice on the other end.  
  
“Minhyuk,” Hyungwon raised an eyebrow in surprise, “Speak of the devil and he shall come.”  
  
“ _Talking about me, mh? All good things I hope_ ,” he teased. “ _In order to maintain my pride and dignity, I’ll assume you thought I was someone else_.”  
  
“You have dignity?” Hyungwon retorted.  
  
“ _Hilarious_ ,” he could almost feel Minhyuk rolling his eyes. “ _Ah, thank you, Romeo_ ,” Minhyuk’s voice faded out as he spoke to someone who evidentially was in the room. Given Hyungwon could hear music drumming in the background, he assumed Minhyuk was at the club.  
  
“I’m on a bit of a schedule,” Hyungwon informed, “What is the purpose of your call?”  
  
“ _Yes, of course. I’ll get right to the point, shall I_?” Minhyuk hummed. “ _Min was just here; I have some rather ‘interesting’ information on this Red Royal of yours._ ”  
  
“Do you have a name?”  
  
“ _I have more than just a name, darling. I’ll be more than willing to discuss it with you tomorrow. How does eight sound? I assume you will be finished with your daily errands by then?_ ”  
  
“Presumedly. I shall see you then,” Hyungwon confirmed.  
  
“ _You certainly will_ ,” Minhyuk said before hanging up. Hyungwon lowered the phone, staring down at the blank screen of the device. The heir glanced down the street, pocketing his phone. His dark eyes scanned the people that lingered on the streets, skimming across cars parked before going to enter the café. 

 

* * *

 

Hoseok’s hands tugged at the edge of the gloves as though he could continue pulling them up his wrists. But all he could feel was the ache between his fingers. His black hair fell in his eyes as he strolled down the narrow pathways. It was obvious from the cracked walls, wood and dented silos that it wasn’t necessarily an affluent neighbourhood.  
  
The sights were all too familiar to Hoseok. From the graffitied walls and the uneven ground he surprisingly was at ease. Or at least as much as anyone could be. There were a few bolted doorways that Hoseok passed.  
  
He threw a glance over his shoulder, staring down the twisted path he had already ventured down. The street he had come from was nowhere in sight. His eyes wandered across the painted walls, furrowing his brows at the art that was decorating the walls; he would be using them as his way out of this maze.  
  
Glass crunched beneath his boot, prompting him to look down. He moved his foot back. There were half broken bottles on the pavement, the liquid still lolling around in the base of the bottles. He exhaled softly and continued onwards.  
  
His head throbbed with the circulation of various thoughts. All of them focussed on Chae Hyungwon. Even though he was in the area his target was allegedly hiding in, it didn’t mean that he would find him. Even so, he couldn’t meet Hyungwon until he had achieved his goal. Was it even a goal if his task was to murder someone? He didn’t want to know what would happen if he failed in doing so.  
  
He turned his head upon hearing the shuffling of feet across the pavement. His blood ran cold as he balled his hands up by his sides. The switchblade in his pocket held some weight to it, more so than the last one he had wielded. It had been years since he had actually used one. Especially one this finely made.  
  
Hoseok’s eyes caught sight of a male with a hood drawn over their head entering from one of the narrow pathways. Hair, dyed a lighter shade, peeked out from the baggy, black hood. Over his shoulder, he lazily held a plastic bag that Hoseok assumed he received from the convenience store.  
  
The boy glanced over at him, eyes meeting Hoseok’s. His jaw twitched and as Hoseok scanned his face he was certain that this was the boy; a teenager. A cold grin split on the youngster’s face as he looked around.  
  
“Ah,” he mused, “I should have guessed they’d send someone.” His words sounded calm, but his posture was ridged. The boy walked towards Hoseok discarding the plastic bag on the ground. “What are you going to do? Huh?” He pushed his hands against Hoseok’s chest, grabbing hold of his collar. What appeared to be a combination of dirt and paint coated his fingers and clung beneath his nails.  
  
Hoseok narrowed his eyes, jerking his hands forward to shove the boy’s arms from him. The teenager sauntered back, a hollow laugh erupting from the back of his throat.  
  
“Ooh tough guy,” he taunted, “What fucker sent you then? Kwon? You can tell him to shove it up his ass because it wasn’t my fault.” His eyes were wild, intensely focused on Hoseok. It felt like he was trying to burn holes into his body.  
  
“Kwon didn’t send me,” Hoseok spoke up, “Chae did.” Hoseok was expecting that to strike fear into the boy, but instead, he smiled.  
  
“So, you’re the bastard’s new puppet?” he said. “You know, he’s just using you.”  
  
“I’m aware,” Hoseok said. He wasn’t stupid. He knew that he was simply a tool to Hyungwon.  
  
“Then you’ve got at least half the brains some others have,” the boy shrugged his shoulders, “Don’t suppose you know what he did to the last guy?” Hoseok was silent. “Chae killed him. Now, let me give you a little advice: get the hell away from that family.”    
  
Of all the people tied with the X Clan, this was the first person to tell him to get away. Someone whose life was threatened by them.  
  
“So how about, we come to an agreement. You go your way, and I’ll go mine,” the boy finished moving in uncomfortably closer. Hoseok could feel his breath on his face. “He’ll just kill you. Trust me, I know these things.” The boy had placed a hand on Hoseok’s chest, the tips of his fingers twitching.  
  
“I’m going to de –” The teenager moved faster than Hoseok predicted. He seized the front of his shirt. His fist flew through the air and Hoseok felt it collide with his jaw. Pain exploded on the side of his face that he took a step back, hand moving to touch the side of his face.  
  
The boy was coming at him again for another attack, this time Hoseok managed to move out of the way in order to avoid it. His actions were near unpredictable. He had no training. He was like a wild animal.  
  
The boy growled as he swung his arm around, lean body darting across the ground. His hood fell around his shoulders, his lips drawn back into an icy sneer. Wide eyes were watching Hoseok intensely; it was unsettling. There was a sharp jab to his ribs. The air was expelled from his lips.  
  
His back connected with the wall. It was cold. It was hard. A surge pumped throughout his body. Lunging forward, Hoseok tackled the boy to the ground instinctively. Teeth clenched together; his fist connects with the boy’s face. He hit the corner of his mouth. The boy snarled; his teeth red with blood. Hands fumbling forward he traded placed with Hoseok, rolling across the glass covered ground. Blood spilled down his lips.  
  
The teenager stood, launching his foot into Hoseok’s side. The force sent him rolling across the ground, onto his stomach. His hands were flat on the ground and his knees dragged beneath his body in order to get up. His body quickly decided between its fight or flight response. He felt like he could hear everything in the nearby vicinity. He could taste the scent of the blood lingering in the hair. He could feel his own coursing through his veins. His heart steadily beat in his chest, reminding him that he was still alive.  
  
Rising to his feet, Hoseok engaged in the fight. He took hold of the front of the boy’s shirt. He lifted his knee, thrusting it into the boy’s stomach. He pushed him against the wall, hearing the crunch of his skull on against the painted wall. Hands wrapped around his wrist. He pivoted on his heel, swinging the boy to the opposing wall. The teenager stumbled forward, falling headfirst into the stone.  
  
Tucking his hand into his pocket, Hoseok retrieved the knife that he had kept concealed. Flicking out the blade, he listened to the ‘ _shing_ ’ sound that rang in his ears. He tightened his grip around the handle of the blade, drawing in a breath. He didn’t have the time to allow rationality to pass through his head. He stepped forward, kneeling over the crouched boy. He could see that on the corner of the boy’s head there was a rather deep cut, blood trickling to the corner of his eyebrow.  
  
His hair swept through the liquid, clinging to his head. His hair was dishevelled. His clothing was misshaped. He spat a combination of saliva and blood onto the ground. A rough chuckle cracked from his throat. He rested his head against the back of the wall.  
  
“What are you waiting for?” Don’t let him bait you, Hoseok swore to himself. “Do it, or are you fucking pussy?”  
  
“You talk too much,” Hoseok muttered. There was no hesitation as he pressed the blade to the boy's throat, pressing on it until he felt the skin break beneath it. His vision was clouded with red. His stomach churned and the metallic smell filled his nose.  
  
“Look,” the boy choked, “at me.” It was a mistake on Hoseok’s part as his eyes connected with the teenagers; a barely legal child. A soft breath escaped his lips. But his hand was burying the knife deeper into his throat.  
  
Hoseok stumbled to his feet, pulling the switchblade away with him. On the silver metal was crimson blood. The boy below cupped a hand around his bleeding throat, wheezing a few short, haggard breaths. All Hoseok could do was stand and watch. His heart stilled. You do what you must to survive, he tried convincing himself. The thought did little to convince him otherwise.  
  
He didn’t blink but rather watched the boy’s hand turn red. Or at least that was what Hoseok thought was happening. His vision was nothing but a wall of crimson. Black orbs sploshed across his image of the world and caused his head to spin. He fell back against the wall sliding down across from the boy.  
  
It felt like his body had ceased functioning. When in fact, that was the young boy. His released the knife in his hand, his ears no longer picking up the sound of it falling to the concrete ground. His breathing, however, could be heard echoing through his head. Hoseok’s legs felt weak as he sat there. His body was growing colder like a corpse. He closed his eyes, inhaling slowly. It was survival. It was survival. It was survival.  
  
His face ached. His attention was momentarily drawn to the bruise that would no doubt from where the boy had punched him. He deserved that. He deserved a lot worse. Peeling his eyes open, he looked at the fallen figure slumped on the other side. He licked his dry lips. Hoseok swallowed, feeling like he was swallowing the very blade he had used. He could taste blood filling his mouth. His stomach coiled painfully. He could feel the burning of bile rising in his throat.  
  
Right then and there he wanted to fun off. He didn’t want to stay any longer. But he couldn’t leave. He hadn’t finished his task. As dark as it was, he wanted to leave his job at simply killing the boy. He had killed someone. It was much scarier now that he had done it. At the moment he hadn’t thought of it. Now, stilling across from a body, it was hitting him. Hitting him like the blow to the head.  
  
Crawling across the ground, he grabbed the knife again. He was hesitant approaching the corpse. It didn’t move. On the wall where his head had previously struck was a smear of blood.  
  
“Try not to think about it too much,” he whispered to himself. Flexing his fingers, he pulled the boy’s hair back. A stream of blood pooled over the back of the dead boy’s hand. Taking another short breath, he dropped his hand to his jaw, forcing his mouth open. His eyes landed on his tongue, redder than normal.  
  
When Hyungwon had spoken to him earlier, this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind of what he would have to do. Perhaps witness murders, perhaps have to do his own. But cutting out someone’s tongue wasn’t on that list. Nor was he expecting it to feel like this when he slid his blade onto it. He gripped it between his index finger and thumb, making sure that he had a decent amount before he began to slice through the muscle. Part of him expected it to be a clean task, but that was not the case.  
  
Hoseok was glad that he was alone. That Hyungwon wasn’t watching him. He was sure that the heir would be less than impressed with his performance. He winced at the very thought. He would be a disappointment to him. Shakily rising to his feet, the tongue in one hand and the knife in the other hand, Hoseok frowned at the situation he had found himself in. Then, he did the last thing, he should be doing. He laughed.  
  
“Talk too much,” he chuckled to himself. His legs were still trembling as he dropped the items in his hand onto the ground. He just needed to dispose of the body and use something, perhaps in the plastic bag, to put the tongue in. He was thankful for the fact that the male was small framed, thus making it easier for him to drag his body across the ground and to the silo.  
  
It wasn’t like someone wouldn’t find the corpse, but nonetheless, it hopefully wouldn’t be for a few days. His arms shook and his breathing was heavier. Finally gathering up the tongue, much to his displeasure, and the knife he left.  
  
With the packet of tissues in the shopping bag, he had done his best to wipe down the blade before he closed it, placing it in his pocket with the tongue next to it in a container that had once held a cup of syrup fruit. The very thought of food made Hoseok thankful that he had only had a coffee. Even so, he wanted to throw it up as well.  
  
He looked down at the gloves on his hand which he had wiped down in order to clean whatever blood had managed to splatter onto them. He knew there were a few patches of his shirt that had blood stains, but the black colour masked that.  
  
Hoseok’s body moved robotically through the passageways, subconsciously peering over his shoulder as though he was expecting the boy to be following him. He shook the thought from his head. It was impossible. His pace was quick as he aimed to get out of there as fast as he could. He killed someone. He had murdered someone.  
  
Walking out onto the street, he gazed across his surroundings as though he expected heads to turn towards him, knowing what he had done. But no one looked his way. Instead, they all continued on their business. He stood silently on the pavement, his throat feeling tight. Glancing down at his body, he brushed his hand across the sleeves of his jacket. A couple of shards of glass glimmered as they caught the low sunlight.  
  
He wasn’t that far where Hyungwon had dropped him off and when he looked down the street, he could see the heir’s car parked on the side of the road. Letting out a gentle breath, he turned in the direction, eyes flickering across the walkways.  
  
On the other side of the road, his gaze landed on a seemingly ordinary car. Inside were two males seated inside. Their lips weren’t moving, instead, they looked to be sitting in complete silence. The driver was surveying the street. One of Hoseok’s feet hovered above the ground as he prepared to take another step. The driver and Hoseok stared at one another. The man behind the closed window straightened his posture.  
  
Hoseok turned his head away and walked down the path. His hands hung down by his side. He made his way towards the café, Hyungwon had pointed out, entering it. Sweeping his eyes across the room he found the young male sitting at a table, tearing apart a pastry. The uncomfortable feeling returned to Hoseok’s stomach. Pulling out the chair across from Hyungwon, the heir briefly glanced up at him, then returned to ripping his food.  
  
“You’re looking a little rough,” Hyungwon stated. “Jaw seems like it could use some ice.”  
  
“I was caught off guard,” Hoseok muttered. “It’s fine.”  
  
“So, is it done?” Hyungwon dropped his hand onto the table, tilting his head up to look at Hoseok. The male nodded his head quietly. “And do you have it?” Another nod. Hyungwon leaned back in his chair, an expression of approval on his face.  
  
Hoseok kept his hands beneath the table, resting on his knees. He took hold of the fabric, clutching it between his fingers. He tensed his jaw, only agitating the side of his face. He could feel the distant throb from where he had been punched. As Hyungwon had noticed, it assumed it perhaps had begun altering in colour; the bruise slowly forming on his skin.  
  
“I am assuming that was your first?” Hyungwon enquired, curiosity peeking in his voice.  
  
“How could you tell?” Hoseok countered.  
  
“The first is the hardest,” Hyungwon avoided answering the question. “Trick is to consider them as not a person at all. That way you deceive yourself into thinking you’re not killing a person.” His voice was dropped down into a quiet whisper.  
  
“When did you first…” Hoseok trailed off. Hyungwon was quiet, a glazed look covering his eyes. It was like he was subconsciously relieving the experience. On the table, his fingers curled into a fist.  
  
“I was sixteen,” he finally said. “He was my best friend.” The heir looked away, nodding his head more to himself than to Hoseok. “My father told me to cut off all connections I had with a normal life, so, I did.”  
  
Hoseok blinked in surprise. It was obviously not what he had been expecting to hear. His hands slackened on his knees and were pressed flat on his thighs. His first murder was his friend. A friend?  
  
“Now, is there anything you want to tell me?” Hyungwon sighed.  
  
“Uh…” Hoseok was in a daze. He looked up at Hyungwon, peering over his shoulder towards the door for a brief moment. Biting the inside of his lip, he stared back at the young male.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“I may be paranoid,” Hoseok begun, to which he saw Hyungwon’s lips slowly tilt up into a smile, “But I think there are police outside.” The smirk fell from Hyungwon’s lips and he blew out a breath.  
  
“They caught on quick,” he uttered.  
  
“What?”  
  
“The system we used to locate Ms Bang’s son was linked into the same system the police use. I’m not an idiot, I know that they have been trying to monitor our movements. They are bound to keep an eye on their walls. I hired an amateur so naturally, they can’t cover their tracks effectively, which makes them the perfect scapegoat.”  
  
Hyungwon rose from the chair and pulled the mask, which rested under his chin, over the lower half of his face. He motioned his head towards the door, indicating for Hoseok to get up.  
  
“Nevertheless,” Hyungwon continued, his voice muffled as he spoke, “we need to leave if that is the case.” Getting to his feet, Hoseok followed Hyungwon out of the café. Outside, Hyungwon slid his hands into his pocket and kept his head down. His pace was unhurried and his body was strangely relaxed.  
  
Hoseok attempted to mimic the heir calm state. He no doubt had been through this procedure many times. Even so, those two potential officers more than likely wouldn’t be aware of who he was from a simple glance. And from the way he held himself, he wasn’t coming across as suspicious.  
  
“Don’t look their way,” Hyungwon advised. He pulled open the car door, permitting Hoseok to enter the vehicle first before he slid in behind him. He closed the door behind him and peered out the back window. “Ah, yes, I see what you mean Hoseok.”  
  
Hoseok followed his gaze seeing how the heir’s eyes were instantly drawn to the car Hoseok had previously seen. Tutting his tongue to the roof of his mouth, Hyungwon settled himself down into his seat and propped his arm against the sill.  
  
“Police, you know the course of action,” Hyungwon addressed the driver.  
  
“Of course, Master Chae,” the driver bowed his head forward. The car hummed as the engine was turned on and before long, they were unhurriedly travelling down the road.


End file.
